


The Italian Way of Life

by MargarotH



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hetalia Kink Meme, Multi, aph Hetalia - Freeform, modern day Hetalia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargarotH/pseuds/MargarotH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romano and Venziano have another fight because the northern brother chose to spend more time with Germany than his brother. Romano run to Spain for consolation while Veneziano trained with Germany. As time passes certain events occur that turns both the Italian brothers world upside down, testing their trust, friendship and love. Story includes unusual pairings, overprotective brothers and conquistadors and Italian badasserie (yes it exists!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storm Clouds over the Sunny Rome

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea while reading various Hetalia kink memes with unusual pairings and situations. The main pairings are already kind of decided upon (which will be held kind of secret until action takes place) but I still want to hear suggestions because I have not decided on the other pairings and please remember that this is kind of an unusual pairing kink thing of sorts :)  
> Enjoy the outcome of kink fanfictions and boring nights :3

I   “Storm Clouds over the Sunny Rome”

 

_It is so warm. And it is so comfortable. The pillow is slightly flat; maybe I should fluff it up a little? Mmm~~_

With that being thought, an arm started lazily to pound into the feathery pillow to make it fluffier along with soft sleepy moans that could be heard from the lump under the flowery covers. After shifting, and a few more sighs, silence enveloped the darkish room again. After a minute or so, the lump shifted again and with a groan raised lazily so only the naked tanned torso of a young man could be seen, the flowery cover pulling in his lap, with an arm rubbing the sleepy eyes and the other searching for something under the previously abused pillow.

_Where the fuck is that phone? Aha~! Found you little shit!_ At the same time the little device started to flash with light and an annoying melody of _What is love~~? Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me~ no more~~!_ Started to play and vibrate at the same time. A low chuckle and touching the screen, stopping the alarm that was set at 9am, throwing it on the pillow, the phone bounces but stays there.

_I ought to hurt you little fucker for waking me up every fucking stupid morning. Oh Dio~~_ small pop like sound is heard as the body stretches and turns right then left _Ahh~~ that felt fucking good~~ Coffee… I want some fucking coffee before I murder this little shit…_ at this moment the hand snatches the phone and carefully gets out of the warm bed, being careful not to uncover the other lump gently breathing and still sleeping away on the same bed. With a lazy smile, he bends and gently kisses the other person on the forehead and arranges the covers around them. Turning around, the young man starts a journey towards one destination that is important and vital for functioning this lovely sunny day of Saturday. Opening the door and closing it behind him softly and considerate of the other person left behind, a shiver passes the half naked body of the somewhat early riser, and the barefoot man starts to paddle to the left, towards the ornate but still fairly simple style wooden staircase. Walls adorned with beautiful paintings of landscapes and still art, portraits including the walking male along other people and framed photographs varying from slightly brownish tint to black and white, sepia and bright modern colours hanging here and there. On the coffee table that was not spared even a glance lay still other framed photos, small statutes like souvenirs and fashion magazines thrown carelessly on the surface. Scratching his stomach, he enters the kitchen and almost on automatic takes the tukish ibrik putting some natural coffee that Turkey himself prepared and brought just for him and drowning it in water placing it on the fire to properly brew. While the kitchen was enveloped in a deep scent and very aromatic you could only see a boxer clad arse behind the open fridge door searching for cake leftovers. Humming a tune that was similar to the traditional tarantella and a lovely bounce in the step, a plate of some kind of chocolate cake was set on the table and the eyes reflected the hunger in them. A playful twirl towards the stove gave away the familiarity with the routine that consisted the mornings in the Italian household.

_Ah, fuck it is hot!_ Sucking on the burned finger, he opened the lower door to the fridge and dug a pack of ice cubes, closing back the door with a bump of the hip and by the three steps made towards the steaming cup; he freed two ice cubes and dumped them in the scalding but aromatic beverage. With a pleased grin, a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with cake in the other he marched towards the open space patio filled with flowers and potted cherry tomatoes overlooking the awaking city. _Well good fucking morning my beloved Rome! Mmm~~ this cake is the shit~~_ almost moaning in delight at the rich chocolate taste exploding in his mouth, he immediately washed it with cooling black coffee devoid of any sugar. No one who knew him on a personal level could understand the love towards this morning ritual of his. Especially considering his personal history with Turkey, and yet every few months Turkey was a regular and much appreciated guest in the household with a new sort of roasted beans for the young man. Cup still half-full but cold and the cake finished, he just sat there relaxing and watching people and tourists alike going in every direction with a content and rarely relaxed look on his lovely young face. Hair askew from the night and bright hazel eyes fogged with the morning sleep, waiting for his beloved brother to wake up and finally start the lovely weekend that they planned to spend together.

“Buon Giorno fratello~~ vee~~!” followed by a hug from behind that felt more like a ton of bricks that fell on him and just did not want to move away. _Ughhh he so should fucking cut off on the pasta intake!_

“Si si, now get off me you idiota! Dio you weight a ton or something?” the only receiving reaction being an obnoxious giggle in his ear and an exaggerated smooch on his right cheek. Well, this is how he prefers it anyway. “Coffee, fratellino?” finally he could breathe again for the boy removed himself from his back and shuddered while sticking his tongue out in a show of slight disgust.

“Nooo~~~ I want a nice _warm_ cup of cappuccino vee~~ not this bitter black thing you drink.” Skipping to the kitchen raising the voice so he could be heard well “no wonder you are always so bitter and have a bleak outlook on life Lovi~.” Well, the statement was received with a shrug and a low chuckle. In five minutes flat he was joined by Feliciano that sat next to him, looking towards the city and sipping the warm cappuccino while devouring the rest of the cake leftover.

“Hey! Leave some for me too you bastard!” and lightly shoved him aside to just drive the point home that _yes you idiot of a younger brother, I had some but I liked it and want more_ also fixing Feliciano with a glare that mostly conveyed that _no those stupid kicked puppy in the rain eyes will not fucking work on me so do not act so fucking shocked!_

“You had some? “ asked a shocked Feliciano.

“Si! And I fucking loved it so leave me some per favore.” Shrugged Lovino while sipping more cold coffee from his cup not noticing the panicking and shocked expression on his brother’s face.

“Why did you not bake something like this before? I am telling you this cake is the shit!” disregarding the fork and stealing some of the cake from Feliciano’s plate using his fingers and shoving it in his own mouth chewing and moaning in delight while making a show of licking his cake covered fingers.

“I... vee~~ it is because I did not bake it...” mumbled a still shocked but mostly amused Feliciano.

“What do you fucking mean? This thing is not bought that is for sure, too tasty to be from the market. So who baked it, so I can kiss the cook hmm?”

“A friend! A friend baked it for me vee~~” Lovino looked at him suspiciously but then shrugged and leaned back relaxed and finishing his coffee.  

“Well then fucking tell your friend that she or he is awesome and should make more cake. I fucking loved it!” and with that he stood up and moved to the kitchen to dispose of the plate and empty cup in the sink. Because of his back turned he did not see the wide grin that stretched on his younger brother’s face, a grin he would immediately recognise as trouble and seen only by him and maybe, possibly but not entirely known few others that may or may not be alive. “Soo~ what are the fucking plans for today? What do you have in that pasta infested mind of yours, hm?” the tone was light and full of excitement coming from the older of the brothers. And suddenly Feliciano was not that relaxed anymore and just kept quiet, mostly trying to find how to correctly respond to the question without angering the easily irritable Italian.

“Vee~~ well, fratello,  you see. Ughh...” nervously the younger tumbled over his own words.

“Che? Just fucking spit it out?” Turned Lovino on him expecting an answer but then his face contorted in a disgusted rage. “No! You fucking promised!”

“Fr-fratello per favour! Vee~~....” tried to reason Feliciano, fully aware that he screwed up big time.

“No! Excuses! You just fucking do not care, do you? Dio! “ _Dio! Why me? He fucking promised..._

“But _Lovi~~_ I told him we made plans but the training... and Japan will come too, dai~ fratello~” pleaded Feliciano, trying to make him understand how important were his friends for him.

“You fucking know what! I do not care anymore! Do fucking what you want... you and that fucking stupid potato bastard because apparently you care more about him then your own fucking brother!” and with that he stormed upstairs in what appeared rage but actually trying to hide the tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. _He does not care, he just does not fucking care. We were supposed to spend the weekend together, fucking together, just him and me. Idiotic potato bastard stealing my brother from me..._ with that the boy just jumped on the bed and pulled the cover overhead.

“Vee~~ Fratello dai~~” Feliciano gingerly sat next to him and petted the sobbing lump “I am sorry fratello... per favore.”

“Just fucking leave already Veneziano. You and I both know you want to.” Came the muffled response, yet you still could feel the angered bite in it and the other could do nothing but flinch from it. A known fact was the Lovino called his dear fratellino by the official name of Veneziano when he was mad or upset with him, so no wonder that the young man let out a very sad vee~~.

“Will... vee~~ will you be bene by yourself fratello? I will try to return tomorrow morning, si?” it was a desperate attempt to save the weekend from the younger’s part “and then we will have fun, just you and I!”

_Yeah fucking right and I am the frigging queen of the eyebrow bastard..._ “You and I both know that you will not, so save your pathetic excuses for someone who gives a flying shit about them, si Veneziano?” still under the covers not wanting to look at Feliciano but by now the sniffling ceased and a new emotion took over, bitterness and indifference. It was a lost battle that Feliciano knew he lost. And a fleeting thought that maybe it is his fault that Lovino hates Germany so much, but as soon as it came it vanished without catching the younger Italian’s attention. After all, he loves Lovino and he is sure his precious brother loves him back and with a lot of coaxing and carefully placed attention will eventually forgive him yet again.

            The only thing that made Lovino move from his cocoon of depression was the slam of the front door after half of an hour listening to more promises from Feliciano that he is sure the other will forget the moment he will lay eyes on that disgusting lump of potato mass. Sitting on the edge of the king sized bed with his head cradled in his palms he made a decision. And with a groan stood up and started to pack for his spontaneous trip. Not even ten minutes of packing that his phone started to play a lovely blues like melody by Raphael Gualazzi and flashing the light on and off according to the vibrations emitted by the device. _What son of a bitch wants to die? Ughh Idiota!!!_ And proceeding to ignore Feliciano’s call when it stopped just as suddenly as it started. A few seconds later, it started again with the same results and again and again and again until a frustrated Lovino threw a shirt into the bag and turned towards the seemingly innocent phone on the table still playing already the irritating song.

“Take a fucking hint stronzzo! I do not want to talk to you! Fuck you!!!” after the sudden outburst the phone stopped ringing and again there was only silence with the occasional grunt of displeasure from the packing young man. Only after he righted the shirt he threw in earlier that a ding like noise was heard from the phone and the screen lighted up for a second. “Ghaaa!!! “ and with a force that could have broken the phone, he unlocked it and opened the new sms that was sent to him by no doubt Feliciano himself.

_“I am at the airport and I thought that you should come with me to Germany. That way we can spend time together more. Ti voglio bene fratello!”_

_Where. You. Fucking. Droped. As. A. Child? Wait, siii, as a matter of fact you fucking were. Damn you, Feliciano!_ And with that the phone was pocketed and the message ignored, not that the sender was surprised. After all, Lovino is a stubborn man that can hold lifetime grudges. The front door that day was slammed twice.


	2. Simple Wishes of an Yearning Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romano and Venziano have another fight because the northern brother chose to spend more time with Germany than his brother. Romano run to Spain for consolation while Veneziano trained with Germany. As time passes certain events occur that turns both the Italian brothers world upside down, testing their trust, friendship and love. Story includes unusual pairings, overprotective brothers and conquistadors and Italian badasserie (yes it exists!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I promised after certain amount of feedback but also every Monday I will post a new chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who read it :3 I hope you will also enjoy this chapter...

II “ Simple Wishes of an Yearning Heart ”

            _The fuck I packed so much? Ughh... he better have some food or else a few cracked ribs will be the least of his problems..._ Those were the thoughts that afternoon as Lovino was pounding on the poor innocent door, demanding to be let in this instance.

“Ooooiiiiii!!! Fucking tomato bastard! Open this fucking door or I am going to piss on your house!” pleased with the threat he continued to kick the door just to make more noise and in general trying to piss off the host even when he knows it is next to impossible.

“Lovi~~ my little tomato por favor~~ stop being so mean and uncute!” came the whine as the door opened hurriedly to a dishevelled and obviously just awoken Spaniard who immediately tried to hug the irate Italian.

“Does this face looks like I give a flying fuck, bastard? No, now move aside.” Marching inside and ignoring the whines coming from the Spaniard about _uncute little tomatoes that are mean and do not want to hug Boss, che like I fucking care about that_. _And who the fuck are you calling little and a tomato!?_ With a huff, he pushed the luggage along with the carry on out of the way and sat pouting on the couch. Not two seconds after, he felt a gentle touch to his cheeks and a soft voice in his ear.

“ Lovi~~ mi Lovinito what happened?” the voice was gentle trying to make him calm down and speak of his troubles.

“Nothing, you asshole.”

“Lovino, tell me what bothers you, por favor.” Caressing the soft flushed cheeks of the boy who sat sulking on the sofa and pulling at the heart strings of the ever-happy Spaniard.

“You! You are bothering me, you and your fucking stupid face, bene?” eyes stinging with unshed tears and a sense of betrayal and sadness suddenly enveloped the young Italian. “and I am fucking hungry! You... you better have some... some food...” and with that a few traitorous tears made their way down and Spain found himself arms full of a sobbing Italian. Not saying anything but gently rocking the shaking body of his lovely tomato thinking up ways to hide eventual horridly tortured bodies of those who hurt his precious Lovinito. Eventually he felt small attempts at pushing him away and with a firm squeeze let go of the slightly composed man.

“Now, Lovinito, let’s try again, si? What happened?” Spain asked him firmly yet kindly.

With a shuddering breath Lovino tried to explain “Feli and I were supposed to spend the weekend together in Rome, just like we planned.” At this Spain nodded for he knew of this and had an inkling where this is going already “and... and everything was good until this morning.” Gritting his teeth in irritation he continued “the fucking potato macho called and took Feli away... the idiot just like that left and... and... “ he could not finish because a new wave of tears came out, although this time he tried to hide them from Antonio. With a sigh, he tugged Lovino in his arms again ignoring the soft punches and attempts at shoving him away.

“Let go you asshole! Let go dammit!” chuckling at the cuteness in front of him he hugged him tighter and smooched his flushed and salty cheek.

“Calm down Lovinito. Shh~~ Boss will make you a good paella with loads of tomates, si?” and just like that he let go and started to walk towards the kitchen still talking and knowing that Lovino will follow him there. “and then we will take a siesta together, si?” and again not waiting for an answer continued “and in the evening we will do whatever your little heart desires, si?” turning around and blinding his charge with a sunny smile.

“Whatever, you bastard.” the pout could be heard and the voice defeated but lighter and with that Spain knew that he cheered up his cute little tomato and the adorable blush was an added bonus that bought his soul and damned his sanity a long time ago. Yet Lovino felt better, if not slightly embarrassed to have been consoled by his former Boss, and at the same time he knew that no matter what, Spa- no, Antonio will protect and care for him. Always. Hiding a small shy smile he sat on the stool and munching on a tomato that was on the kitchen table. _Mmmm God dammit~~ Antonio’s tomatoes are the best... Mmmm~~_ while enjoying the juicy fruit from heaven, the kitchen started to smell equally heavenly of vegetables, rice and the right combination of spices that Lovino knew for sure are self-made by yours truly, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. A skill he taught him as well, along with agriculture, cooking and dancing. Now that he thinks about it, Antonio taught him many things that he excels at, things that not many knew about him and he would like to keep it like this, for no matter what, Feliciano will always be better than him at anything. Therefore, it is not selfish much; if he wants to keep a few skills just for himself, things that he worked damn hard to accomplish, therefore he does not want to see his fratellino, no matter how much he loves him, excel at them more easily and naturally than he did. It would crush his already weak self-esteem.

“Lovinito, mi tomate~~” a cheerful voice interrupted his inner conflict and suddenly he found himself centimetres away from emerald green eyes of a _stupid Spaniard grinning like an absolute idiot._

“Che vuoi stupido?” was the ever kind reaction Antonio received, not that anything was new, and he gave up a long time ago to try and shove a soap in his young charge mouth to cleanse the vulgarities and negative behaviour.

“Can you bring a new Rioja bottle from the cellar? Choose whichever one you want mi tomate~!” sang Antonio as he started to set the table for the late lunch but quiet early dinner. With that, Lovino made a show of how tiresome the Spaniard’s request actually is, while internally he is giddy to re-visit the cellar that holds lovely memories for the Italian. For this is where he made his very first wine bottle, and if he is not mistaken Antonio still has it as a memento, on a stone pedestal decorated with wilted flowers and a rustic goblet. _And here was the first time I got fucking plastered and Antonio found me passed out and hugging a barrel... ughhh_ well the outcome of that passing though brought a shiver to the Italian as he remembered the scolding he got but also the day after. Not pleasant. Looking around the stonewalls that were covered with racks upon racks with bottled wines, vintage or non vintage, starting from years even he could not identify and ending with this year’s harvest, also barrels filled with other sorts of home-made drinks. Grabbing a bottle of red dry Rioja Alta, from this year’s harvest, he marched back up the stairs to the kitchen.

“Ohhh Good choice Lovinito~.” Taking the bottle from him, Antonio expertly opened it and poured some in beautiful crystal wine glasses, placing it on the table next to the plates filled with delicious paella and sprinkled with fresh chopped dill and parsley and at the side a beautiful cut in four tomato with a nice steam of red Rubin Basil. In the centre was placed a bowl filled with a simple summer salad from tomatoes, green onion, cucumbers and olive oil with a sprinkle of natural sea salt. A quite simple meal for a Mediterranean nation, really.

“Grazie bastard.” Mumbled the embarrassed nation. The two of them sat and started to eat in complete silence. _Mmm~~ this fucking bastard knows his way around the kitchen~~ Not that I will ever tell him..._

“How is it? Do you like it mi tomate?” asked Antonio fingering the stem of the wine glass.

“I hope I won’t die from this stronzo...” chuckling Antonio raised the glass towards Lovino and smiling brightly.

“Let us toast for this humble meal and thank Dios for another opportunity to live and breathe.” Mimicking the action, Lovino touched Antonio’s glass with his and a resounding bell like sound echoed through the kitchen.

“Salute!” “Salud, mi tomate!” and both of them took a sip of the somewhat cool wine, enjoying the rich texture of the grapes. All through the meal, the chattered about the wine quality, tomatoes and the approaching harvesting season in southern parts of Italy. Playful banter and heart full laughter filled the over wise quiet kitchen and resounded all through Antonio’s enormous villa.

            After the table was cleared and dishes washed, the two nations took the half-full bottle and moved to the open space patio that was filled with flowers, and a resting corner with pillows and fluffy covers. Antonio lounged there while Lovino sat in the hammock that was hanged to the Spaniard’s right. Both of them in the shade, away from the glaring afternoon sun. Sipping more wine both men contently sat and relaxed, somewhat preparing for a missed siesta.

“You know, I miss days like this.” The phrase was uttered so softly that it resembled the breeze that just tickled their noses.

“What do you fucking mean?” Lovino did not even bother to move from his relaxed position, he felt a little too lazy to even raise the wine glass to take a sip. Although he asked, but he already knew what the Spaniard meant. He never failed to mention it every time the Italian came over.

“Having you here with me. Just like before.” The Spaniard took a sip and swallowed before continuing “ I miss those times, really. The laughter of an adorable child playing in the fields and Belgium humming tunes in the kitchen. “ and Lovino agreed for he remembers very clearly as he run through this fields shrieking in laughter and playing till the sun set. Then Belgium will come out the back door and yell for them to go wash and hurry to the table for the late evening dinner. How he would try to sneak all the kittens in the house to Antonio’s amusement and Belgium’s displeasure. The tall and scary Netherlands secretly teaching him how to fish and take care of bunnies, and how he was sworn to secrecy by Big Ned himself. However, those times were not filled with only happy memories, horrible and cruel events as we know them from history books are perceived differently by nations. They lived through them, they suffered through them and finally they survived them. “I do not miss the wars thought. “

“Me neither. I hated when you would leave for months or years and leave me all alone, because Belgium and Netherlands had their own problems to deal with.” The pout could be heard and the unshed tears of memories of loneliness and constant fear for the next day, yet a hope that could outshine all the gold in the world. “and when you deigned to come home you were always hurt and fucking bloody. And who fucking had to take care of you stronzo? That is right, me...”

“Lo siento Lovinito and yet I am most lucky to have you by my side mi tomate.” You could feel, no you could fucking taste the smile and teasing in his voice. Which of course made the Italian pout and cover any snarky comeback with a mouthful of wine.

“Can we fucking not talk about this shit anymore? I fucking know you miss those horrid times being all psycho on the world but I want to fucking relax and not be a sappy bitch like you. I am a manly Italian man, I do not bitch like stupid Spaniards do!” the only reaction he received was a low chuckle and mumbles about _cute tomatoes being all shy and adorable_. _Fucking idiotic Spaniards..._

            _Nngh~ what...? Where the fuck I am?_ Looking on his right where the warmth was coming from and a soft vibration along with content purring he saw a fluffy cream cat curled at his side and purring contently. Analysing his surroundings he realised that he fell asleep on the hammock outside and that Antonio was nowhere he last saw him. Ruffling his hair, he distinctively hears cherry Spanish music coming from the outdoor kitchen and a familiar voice humming along. Petting the sleeping cat and cradling it in his arms, followed the music to a dancing Spaniard while kneading some doth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the voice was laced huskily with sleep and slightly muffled as Lovino was nuzzling the soft fur of the feline in his arms.

“Lovi~ finally awake? You two were sleeping so cutely that I did not have the heart to wake you, lo siento.”  Was the giddy replay, yet those muscled arms did not stop the kneading.

“What the fuck ever. I did not ask for a fucking background life story.” Yawning he let the cat down and sat on a stool still trying to properly wake up. Chuckling, Antonio looked at him being all cute there and finally decided to answer his previous question.

“I have some spare sour cherries and decided to make some pie for us. Isn’t that amazing?” from the corner of his eyes Antonio awaited for the reaction from Lovino he knew will be there, and as always he was not disappointed as the Italians hazel eyes lighted up and a small smile tugged at his lips. Very easy to miss, but Antonio saw it enough times to know how and where to look. These are small moments that he always will cherish and do anything in his power to protect them. That prompted Lovino to get up and shuffle to the foyer towards his luggage and opening it grabbed two bottle of Duchessa Lia Fragolino, a summer pink wine better served and consumed cold. This will go perfect with the pie Antonio is baking. Swaying hips to sides and dancing a little, he placed one bottle in the fridge and another in the freezer. Going out of the house again he sat on the wooden stool provided there grabbed another tomato and started munching it.

“You hungry mi tomate?” with a shake of head the Spaniard received his answer.

“I brought some Fragolino for us.” A shining smile and a soft “Gracias” coming from Antonio told Lovino that it is much appreciated and a proud blush dusted upon his cheeks. As much as the Italian was weak in front of praises and compliments, getting flustered easily, he equally appreciated small familiar gestures that made him feel human, simply human with a simple house and life surrounded by family. And right now he felt like at home, the only missing piece of total bliss would be his absent brother. Lovino had so much hope that maybe; just maybe his fratello will spend at least one entire weekend with him. When Feliciano mentioned it he jump at the opportunity like a hungry lion jumps its prey. He could not believe his own luck, only imagine an entire weekend with Feliciano, having fun and cooking together. _When was the last fucking time we cooked together?_ With a small frown, his heart stopped for a second, because he could not remember when was the last time they cooked together. But then again, Feliciano chose that fucking German other him, his flesh and blood, his own brother. After this entire time, how, just how could he not hate that freaking potato? How could he not despise that good for nothing-younger brother stealing monster? _What does Feliciano sees in him anyway? Are they... are they together... like that?_ Lovino shakes his head trying to erase that last thought and concentrated on the cooling pie. How long he sat there thinking about the most precious person in his life, when Feliciano just forgets about him easily.

            Even if the pie was amazing and the Fragolino cold enough to cool them, even when they enjoyed each other’s company gazing at the starry sky across the fields, not even then could Lovino forget the pain he felt this morning. A single silent tear rolled on his cheek and he could not be more grateful to the Spaniard that raised him, for the comfort and warmth he provided by simply gently embracing him, singing an old but all too familiar Spanish lullaby.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again please give me feedback so I will know if I should continue it or not. And also I will be away for about 2-3 week on a vacation to Italy :) so I will not be able to post the 3ed chapter, therefore if I will be able to finish the 4th on time, the moment I will come back I will post both of them~~ Enjoy~~


	3. Two Brothers just One Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back from my trip to Italy and a new chapter is up! Thanks a bunch for all the attention and I hope I will not disappoint! Enjoy~~!!

Waking up in your old childhood chamber is both strange and somewhat a relief to the aching heart. Only in this household Lovino can over sleep through the alarm with an ease that scares and fascinates him at the same time. Therefore, it was of no surprise that while stumbling down the stairs he could already hear the cheerful voice of Antonio, who on weekends could sleep the day away. _Apparently not today. Who is he fucking talking to? And it is only, what? ... 11am mehh_ … entering the spacious living room, he saw Antonio chatting on the phone and as soon as the other saw him threw him a blinding sunny smile...

“Si, here he is, I will pass him the phone, si?” and expectantly held the receiver towards him still grinning like an idiot. With a raised eyebrow, he mentioned with his chin towards the offending object held in his face.

“Who is it?”

“Veneziano... he said you are not answering your cell.” Gritting his teeth, the answer was curt but loud enough for the third person to hear it as well.

“I do not want to fucking talk to him. If he is so fucking bored, he should go bother the potato freak.” And with the he turned around and marched angrily towards the kitchen to brew some coffee. He still could hear the Spaniards voice that was still on the phone, but he made himself  concentrate on the coffee. Although, even after sipping the first mouthful, it did not register that the coffee was simple espresso and not the fancy Turkish one he so much loves, because in his rush to leave Rome he forgot to pack some. The only thing that went around his head was that Antonio finally got off the phone and was coming towards the kitchen.

“He is in Rome.” With trembling hands, he sipped some more, intent in ignoring the other. “He got on the first plane today morning at about 5 and went straight to the apartment in Rome, hoping to surprise you in the morning...” the more the Spaniard talked, the angrier and more upset the other became. “... you were not there. He called you on your cell.”

“Is... Is he in Rome now? Did he call from home?” He did not want to look at him right now.

“Si... Feli~ said that he will be...” the Spaniard got rudely and quiet aggressively interrupted.

“Why did he fucking come back? Huh? Why did he not fucking run back to that stupid disgusting potato? Why?” the cup was placed on the counter because the Italians hands were shaking badly. In anger? In sadness? Too many emotions at once, too much pressure. The inquiry was either ignored or wisely not answered because the next question was asked in a serious but concerned tone, a rarity from the ever-oblivious Spaniard, just not when it came to Romano.

“What will you do, Lovinito?” gently he was turned and embraced by the older nation. “You have to make a decision as the older brother.” The other shyly hugged back, but it felt more as if he was holding onto Antonio for as much as physical but also moral support. In which the Spaniard had infinite to give to his adorable charge.

“I... I do not know... I cannot... what should I do?” and that desperate look he gave Antonio, it was all over again like the ones wondrous gazes the Spaniard encountered, when Lovino was so small that the only thing he could grasp was the knee part of the Spaniard’s pants.

“It is a decision only you can make mi tomate.” A nod indicated that the Spaniard should release him and step aside, because Lovino composed himself and made the said decision _so he fucking better back of and keep his retarded mouth shut or I will head butt the hell out of his ribs and stomach._

“Call me when you get home, si mi tomate?” with a kiss to the forehead, Lovino dragged his unpacked suitcase to the airport _. I hope he will still be there. And the fuck I packed so much dammit!!_

            With a nervous sigh, Lovino balanced the luggage and the duty free peace offerings so he could try to open the front door to the somewhat not so small studio apartment in the very heart of Rome itself. On the fifth attempt to just put the fucking little shit of a key into the lock hole, the door was thrown open and a surprised Feliciano was openly starring at Lovino with his amber eyes that resembled more a pool of warm honey that could melt the coldest of bastards. _No fucking wonder he got the huge lump of potato mass wrapped around his little finger._

“Fratello~... vee~~ you... you are home...” a watery smile formed on those little pink lips and Lovino found himself hugged by his precious fratellino and quietly being thanked in that sweet, melodious north Italian dialect that Lovino so envied and adored at the same time. All the sudden Feliciano released him and nervously started fidgeting, a clear sign that he wanted to say something but he was too nervous or about to start to cry.

“I bought some Martini, “ he awkwardly held the decorative bag with the bottle inside “... I... ughh we did not have it in a while... and I thought you might like it.” He could feel his cheeks warming up and horridly he knew that a blush settled there, but he did not want to break the eye contact with Feliciano. Grinning, Feliciano took the bag from his fratello, knowing that he was forgiven, yet he still wanted to make Lovino feel loved and appreciated.

“Grazie vee~~” gently and slightly scared he took the older italian’s hand and guided him to the living room. “and I brought more cake, the one that you liked. Vee~~” If Lovino would not have been looking at their hands and more trying to hide his bright tomato face, he would have noticed the small smirk and somewhat frightening glint in his fratellino’s eyes. Before sitting down, he tugged Feliciano in his arms and shyly mumbled a small _Grazie, fratellino~~_ , and as fast and as suddenly that happened, he let go and pushed him away before stubbornly sitting down and looking at everything but his brother. And that moment Feliciano got the distinctive feeling that the cake was the last thing on his brother’s mind for this kind of thanking. He felt like it had more to do with the fact that for once, he kept his promise and that made him feel euphoric yet a sudden fear and bitterness griped his heart and maybe, just maybe he should love his precious brother a little more. Because, even if Feliciano knows that no matter what, Lovino will always be by his side, but this little fear gripping and suffocating him, suddenly spelled a loss. One much greater, than a physical one. No, what Lovino needed was simple. Something what Antonio understood a long time ago and it was time for Feliciano to comprehend and make a choice. His fratello needed him. A simple silent request that Feliciano was more than capable and happy to provide, along with the protection that Lovino subconsciously needed, but will never ever admit it, even to himself.

“What are you fucking starring at, idiota?” Lovino felt somewhat confused looking at his usually happy go lucky fratellino looking at him with a serious face yet such adoring eyes. He could not help but feel important and loved in this very moment. And this is exactly why he felt quiet uncomfortable, because no one besides Antonio, looks at him like that. Especially his little brother.

“Vee~~ I will bring the cake, si?” and with that the air headedness of his little Feliciano returned and he skipped to the kitchen making small Vee~~ sounds all the while. Shrugging, Lovino took his phone from the pocket and called Antonio.

“Hola~~ Lovi~~!” rolling his eyes and sighing quiet loudly...

“Can you actually answer your fucking phone like a normal person, once in a fucking blue moon maybe?”

“But Lovi~ I answered normally.” Followed by an obnoxious giggle meant purely to irritate the other Italian, Lovino was sure of that.

“What fucking ever. I am home. I was not kidnapped, raped or killed. Happy?”

“Sii~~ Lovi, muy feliz. Gracias for calling me.” A small pause... “How is Feliciano?”

“You did not tell him... that you know... I was fucking coming back.”

“I thought it might be better like this, mi tomate~”

“Ohhh so you can fucking think? Sure sign of Apocalypses!” hearing some shuffling next to him and seeing Feliciano cutting the delicious chocolate cake in huge slices and finally trying but failing to open the Martini bottle. “Oi bastard, I have to go before this little shit hurts himself. Ciao motherfucker~!” and without even listening to the usual hurried _Adios mi tomate~_ touched the red square on the screen and tossed it on the sofa behind him. With a grin, he took the bottle from his fratellino and one swift move opened it and poured a hearty amount in both glasses still grinning smugly at the pouting Feliciano. Oh Dio, how he loved to best his fratello in anything really, because it so rare and the expressions he makes are so adorable.

“Salute~” the voices perfectly synchronized as well as the ding sound from the toasting glasses. After a few mouthfuls, Lovino grabbed the biggest piece of cake and started to munch on it moaning in pure delight. _Ohh shiiit~~~ this is heaven on a plate..._ “Say fratellino, who bakes these cakes?” what he did not expect is for Feliciano to choke on his own cake and start hacking his lungs out. A little shocked and mostly concerned, Lovino placed his plate on the small coffee tablet not caring for the old fashion magazines there and gently but firmly hitting Feliciano’s upper back to help him compose himself. “Dio! Feliciano! God dammit eat normally, will you!” thrusting the Martini glass in his hand and urging him to try to drink some. “I fucking know the God damned cake is awesome, but you do not hobble it like a brainless idiot!”

“Scuzi fratello vee~~” after cleaning his throat with more Martini, he suddenly grabbed Lovino’s glass and stood up “I know, fratello~! I will make some cocktails from this and it will last longer and we will try tasty drinks, si?” and with that he took off to the kitchen leaving a confused and quiet lost southern Italian behind, well, _at least I still have cake_. With that thought, he guiltily indulged himself in the fattening yet purely delicious dessert. A few moments later and the eyeing of another cake piece from the older brother part, Feliciano was back with two huge cocktails glass full of only God and Feliciano knows what. With a raised eyebrow, he pointed a look at the walking nation that was grinning from one ear to the other, just like that Cheshire cat from the eyebrow’s folklore or was it just a book, Lovino was not sure either way.

“... and just what is that supposed to be?” worry increasing when the other just shrugged and sipped first, eyes narrowing and waiting for any sign that could allow him to not drink this thing. However, Feliciano just licked his lips and vee~~ed cutely sipping some more. Which prompt the older brother to try it too, and surprise - surprise, it was absolutely delicious.

            The entire cake later and a few more of those monster cocktails a la Italia Veneziano, and Lovino’s world was slightly tipped to the side and _Oh fucking shit is that fog or... hey look the flowers are waving... cute~!_ Well, the younger was no better if not a lot more worse. Shirts unbuttoned, but at least Lovino kept the pants on, unlike his north counterpart. And suddenly the buzzing noise turned out to be Feliciano bubbling about some shit that as hard and trying as Lovino might, could not understand or even tell one subject from the other. As Feliciano gesticulated in a drunken manner towards Lovino and almost smacking him straight in the face, he could do nothing more but nod in agreement with whatever the younger one was about.

“... and then he just “ another sip “ vee~~ just walked away fratello~”and suddenly Feliciano sounded defeated “... he just walked away...” something about Feliciano’s face and argument made Lovino think that whatever he was on was bothering him.

“Fuck him then!” Suddenly there is silence and Lovino is trying to figure out where to look because his brother started to become two and then one and then two of them again, and the sudden silence made Lovino think that he said something wrong. “You~~... you are a fucking manly Italian man, fratellino! The stupid old man’s grandson!” he made to take a sip but his glass was empty, Feliciano’s was not thought. “You do you... him, si... you do him... you do whatever you want, si?!” and narrowing his eyes tries to make sense of what he said but then, slowly, Feliciano mulled over his fratello’s words and started to nod, while Lovino starred wantonly at Feliciano’s doubling image. 

“Sii~~ vee~~ I will do that!” what Feliciano will do, Lovino had no fucking idea, but if his small prep talk helped his little brother then he will support and help him in any way possible, just maybe, not right now, because he is as lost as he was five minutes ago, or was it two? He was not sure how much time had passed, but he was sure he wanted to drink some more. Unfortunately, all bottles were empty and Feliciano still talking, but with less vigour and more leaning onto Lovino’s side in an attempt to cushion his fall in a necessity of intoxicated sleep. When Feliciano’s head finally landed on his lap and the latter started to whine in discomfort, Lovino decided that enough is enough and with a loving smile ruffled his younger brother’s hair, and gently moved him aside so he could rise himself. Very carefully, he gripped Feliciano’s arms and hauled him up, half dragging him and half holding him tightly. Leaning on the opposite direction, so in case they fell, he would not crush his fratellino. While stumbling up the stairs towards their shared bedroom, he could not help but crave more of the delicious chocolate cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the usual... read enjoy and any suggestions about pairings and future ideas are very much welcome...


	4. Problems Magnets and Choosing Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~~ and another chapter is on~~ i hope you guys are enjoying this...

_Dio! Who is the fucking asshole that left the blinders open? Oh wait, that would be me... shit I am an asshole, well fuck my life..._

Slowly, without disturbing the moaning mess sleeping next to the raising young man, he tiptoed to the windows and drew the blinds enveloping the room in total darkness even if outside the sun was shining brightly. Pitiful moaning came from the shivering lump still on the bed, and slowly approaching it; the older looked at it in amusement and pity.

“Vee~~ fratello... aqua per favore~~!!” chuckling the older brother grunted in response and went to fulfil the hangover nation’s request. Not that the older was not in the same predicament, but it is safe to assume that Lovino was used to such mornings. One being that he himself makes stronger home - made liquors that again he himself consumes. The other is that, every time he is dragged with the infamous Bad Touch Friends, or as Lovino lovingly calls them FAG, they get wasted beyond any recognition. Therefore, a fact not known by many and Lovino could bet his tomatoes that not many would believe that he is actually not such a lightweight as his younger brother, who is not really used to heavy drinking parties. Parties that Lovino grew up with and later as he matured, started to participate. Grabbing a glass and a pitcher with water, he filled it with ice cubes and as a second thought; he grabbed a cartoon of red Sicilian orange juice for his own hangover problem. Silently re-entering the bedroom, he distinctively felt the stale smell of the air and placing his surviving items on the bedside tables, rushed to open a window as to let in the fresh smell of morning. Pouring some cold water in the glass, he knelt before the bedside of his suffering fratellino.

“Feli~ here drink this.” Trying to lower his voice as not to hurt Feliciano’s over sensitive hearing at the moment. Well to admit that Feliciano looked like crap right about now, as he was slowly emerging from his cocoon of covers, would be a huge understatement, because not only was he pale and had dark circles under his eyes, his whole body trembled and Lovino actually had to help him to hold the glass without spilling it. After another filled to the brim glass of water, Feliciano seemed satisfied for now, and tried to lay down moaning and holding his head. “How do you feel Feli?” Brushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.

“Like crap Lovi... I feel like crap right now...” the voice was hoarse even in a whisper, that and his little brother just dropped the c word, chuckling he shook his head.

“Just sleep it away, si?” the only response was a nod and then a hiss from the sudden jolt. In a few minutes, Feliciano fell asleep leaving Lovino to clean the mess that they made yesterday night and cook something for when Feliciano will wake and be able to eat something without making him nauseas.

Around noon, a groan and shuffling feet were heard going down the stairs, without looking at the door Lovino poured some of the remaining juice in a glass and put it on the table in front of the seated Feliciano. Taking a good look at his fratellino he shook his head and leaned to kiss the crown of his head.

“How do you feel?” as much as he already knew the answer, it still broke his heart seeing the usually happy Feliciano look pale and obviously in a miserable state, but on the other hand, it amused and pleased him that he is allowed to see him with no inhibitions.

“Better, grazie fratello.” A sad attempt at smiling had Lovino almost doubled in laughter, which of course made Feliciano pout and moodily sip the juice. Of course, at that very moment the phone started going off, automatically putting Lovino in his default grumpy mood.

“Pronto...” and an almost audible groan passed Lovino’s lips after he heard the other party responding back. Feliciano looked at him curiously, silently asking who was on the phone, while Lovino could do nothing but roll his eyes. “No... but is it a fucking emergency or something?...” _Can you actually believe these humans?..._ “Veneziano does not feel right... No! It is not a nation thing you bastard!” _Ughhh where is a gun when you need one?_ Well at least one of the brothers seemed amused because Lovino was making quiet the collection of face expressions. “I do not want to go there! And Veneziano does not either!” _Did he go senile in his old age? Does he want my death after all this years?_ “... but... ughhh fine you bastardo, I will fucking go but... no fucking listen to me! Next time I want to fucking go to my baby you will have no objections, si?” _I swear to Dio..._ “Fucking si or no?” _Fuck yeah..._ ”Si, si I will be ready in an hour and send a fucking car this time.” And with that the phone was slamed and Lovino seemed quiet irritated but smug at the same time. Feliciano understood that the smugness came from his bargain concerning the “baby”, and everyone who knew Lovino and about his “baby”, knew his pride and love towards it. Feliciano never understood it, but he knew and respected this passion of his brother, because what made Lovino happy made Feliciano ecstatic.

“Was it Napolitano?” the stiff nod gave him the answer he already knew. “What did he want?”

“He needs one of us to go the ... to ugh...” rubbing his face and sighing, somewhat scaring Feliciano a bit. “... well better me then you.” _I am going to fucking die... I am going to be murdered and feed to monsters and no one will find my body..._

“Where to? Signore England?” Feliciano had half of mind to call Napoletano and cancel the entire delegation trip to that nation’s home.

“Not really, but close enough. Apparently Scotland requested an official meet up with us or at least one of us, does not matter which one as long as one of us comes.” Both brothers were quiet confused. They really were not that related to Scotland, besides them knowing he was scary and intimidating. With a sigh, Lovino rose from the table, kisses Feliciano’s forehead and started to head to the bedroom for packing. Feliciano remained seated and was looking in a concerned manner but suddenly flinched from a sudden angry scream. “Vaffanculo!!! Cazzo...” and with that, he rushed to see what might be wrong. The scene made him snort trying to contain his laughter. Because in the middle of the living room was Lovino starring at the suitcase the was next to the door still packed and ready for another trip.

“Well fratello, this came in handy, no?” well the suddenly stiff shoulders should have gave Feliciano a good warning to start running. However, because of his general inability to read the atmosphere and perhaps he complete trust in his older brother kept him snickering at his own joke at the entrance of the kitchen.

“You little shit!” and that finale gave a sufficient warning call to make Feliciano flee still snickering, which prompted Lovino to chase him. Considering the fact that Lovino was older and was more built then Feliciano, it came as no surprise that soon he was on top of his fratellino tickling him and demanding instant surrender, which he received in between gasps and giggles. Still straddling Feliciano somewhere on the second floor in the middle of the hall, Lovino tried to tame his now slightly curling hair. “Does it look bad?” Feliciano shook his head.

“No, a little bit of grooming and it will be perfect.” After Lovino rolled off Feliciano, he helped him rise as well.

“Help me to choose a suit, si?” after all the brothers like to help each other when it concerned clothing and now after yesterday’s revelation Feliciano wanted to make sure his fratello will be happy and cared for.

            About half an hour later and the room looking like an Armani boutique just blew up, Lovino was dressed to impress and his hair straightened once again. Although his face looked his usual irritated self, Feliciano could see his eyes flickering nervously and quiet afraid of what to expect from this trip. In that moment Feliciano could not help but admire his darling fratellone. A tall handsome Italian man, with a serious face and giving the impression of confidence and intimidation. Standing straight like a mountain and scowling at the mirror, yet his most outstanding feature are his eyes. A lovely shade of hazel that bright up when he is pleased or happy, are dark like the murky water of an ocean angry in a full blown storm. Yet, they are glistening in unshed tears when the owner is sad and heartbroken. Too many times Feliciano saw yet ignored them, it kind of made him angry right now. Because every time his fratello would need him, he would not be the one to comfort him to whisper sweet nothings and praises in his ear. No, that trembling body was held by tanned Spanish arms, and the praises were lisped in Spanish. It was not a Dolce&Gabbana shirt being drained in tears, but a simple non-brand one. It pained him that Lovino could show this vulnerable state only to Antonio and not him, his only true flesh and blood, his only true brother. The human in Feliciano was cursing Austria and France and Spain and even his great Nonno for playing a role in separating them as children. Next time he would have a serious talk with Nonno Rome, that would be for sure.

“Oi! You here stupido?” the statement was followed by a gentle whack upside Feliciano’s head. Not wanting to lose his game, Feliciano shook his head and beamed childishly at him.

“You look handsome Lovi~~” the other just rolled his eyes and turned around, yet Feliciano could see through the mirror that the compliment pleased Lovino and a lovely pink dust settled on his cheeks. Suddenly, a loud honk was heard from outside. “The car is here…” Feliciano was quiet upset that Lovino has to go and briefly wondered what his fratello feels like when he always leaves, and often not for work trips. It must be horrible, he is horrible _._

Lovino jus nodded and turned to leave the room, his movements stiff and giving away his undesired to leave. Faintly he could feel Feliciano’s steps after him, without looking back he grabbed the suitcase and silently went to open the door. He could think of nothing more than as soon as he leaves Feliciano will call that freaking potato bastard and go to him. He could not understand why the younger Italian was so dependent on that potato lump. After all he has done to them, he just could not understand. Before going out the door he felt warm soft arms around his waist and a head leaning against his shoulder blades. Sighing, he turned around and stiffly hugged Feliciano. “Be careful fratello, per favore. “

“Bene Feli, do not worry, I will not be all alone there, si?” kissing him on both cheeks, Lovino hurried downstairs, faster he leaves, earlier he will return. While outside being helped by the driver to put the suitcase in the trunk he looked up at the balcony and saw Feliciano there waving at him and smiling gently. _Dio, ti voglio bene idiota… mio fratellino idiota…_ and with that in mind he sent a half smirk and a lazy salute before coolly getting in the car and driving to the airport. The trip there was spent in a silent manner and Lovino was looking through the delegation project drafts, the more he read the more his heart sunk. _Grazie Dio Feli is not involved in this, this time…_ with a sigh and an unpleasant half backed back up plan Lovino closed his eyes and cursed his forgetfulness. _Oh well, I’ll get a cartoon of orange juice at the airport._

            Being a nation had its pluses; all the security custom was much faster and more pleasant, than for humans. And in no time he was on his way to Edinburgh, capital and heart of Scotland. What is his human name again? If Lovino ever knew it, he could not remember it. Finally seated on the plane he turned to look out the window with a sigh ready to show the world his scowl and roughness while nursing his cartoon of juice infused with an ounce of Bacardi.

“Signore Vargas, per favour would you buckle up.” A gentle and melodious voice made his face snap towards the speaker seeing a beautiful Italian boarding crew member. In a second he smiled flirtingly and gently took her hand kissing her knuckles.

“But of course bella, your wish is simply a command for me.” And with that he sent a wink to the blushing woman in front of him, and from the corner of his eyes watching her scurrying along the aisle. _Che bella ragazza…_ and after the encounter, he could not wipe his smile off his face. Every time the girl would approach, Lovino would complement her and shamelessly flirt. The moment the pilot announced the landing of the plane, had Lovino emerging from behind the curtain of the plane kitchenette with ruffled hair and slightly swollen red lips, yet a quiet satisfied smirk o his face. Buckled up and sending winks to the flustered and equally dishevelled flight attendant made him not even feel the bumps of the landing plane. While getting off he placed a kiss on her cheek and winked at her causing another scarlet attack on her cheeks. The smirk was immediately wiped of when he came face to face with a tall, redhead nation. The personification of Scotland himself.

“Welcome to Edinburgh! I am Scotland, Allistor Kirkland.” A hand was shoved at him while the cigarette dangled from his lips.

“Grazie, I am Italia Romano. The southern part.” A firm hand shake, yet Lovino was surprised that the other gave his human name so easily. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and comment :3 also leaving suggestion and critique is welcome~~ see you next Monday~~!!!


	5. God Save the Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~~ here is another chapter~~ I hope you enjoy it :)

V

“ God save the Queen ”

            _Whose idea was it to share a car?_ The sleek business-like car was heavy with tension and awkward silence. Most of it came from the Italian himself, one of the reasons being that the Italian did not know why he was called here and what to expect from the meeting. The other reason was not only that this was England’s older brother, but also Scotland was heavily smoking and openly starring at him with a creepy ass smirk upon his face. The smoke would lazily rise in the air in an exotic-like dance that reminded Lovino of Turkey’s belly dancing, leaving his mouth dry and throat constricting from heavy swallowing. _Oh Dios... if he keeps it up I will explode..._ Suddenly the car came to a stop, that came as a relief for Lovino and when the door opened a small gesture from Scotland made the young Italian blush bright red, exactly the same colour Antonio loved so much. Bright red like a ripe tomato, not that Lovino will ever accept that comparison. Following Scotland’s silent request for him to go out first, Lovino exited the car and looked at the official looking building. _They are all the same... these north nations have no sense of art do they?_ In no time at all the entire delegations from both parts were seated at an elliptical table facing each other. Was it a coincidence or not, Lovino was facing the still smirking Scot. The meeting was boring, yet the Italian tried to concentrate and by what he was hearing, the damned meeting might drag for a few days. Suddenly the feeling of being watched intensified and Lovino could not help but look at the intruder, his cheeks dusted bright pink again when their eyes met. Scotland was shamelessly starring at him and even had the nerve of smirking in his face while he deeply inhaled the nicotine into his lungs and slowly if not teasingly exhaling it. South Italy could not help himself but follow the exotic-like dance of the raising smoke. Scotland’s grin grew wider as the Italians fingers twitched and the lower lip was bitten unconsciously.

Much later than Lovino would have preferred the meeting has come to an end, well at least today’s session. Silently, he gathered his things and tried to exit as quietly as possible, another second in this room with these idiots and Lovino might go all out south Italy style. He promised both Feliciano and Napolitano that he would behave like a good nation he supposedly is required to do. _Fuck them... but my baby..._ Slowly exhaling, he started to count shiny sweet tomatoes to calm down; it would have worked if not for the sudden arm around his shoulders and a low chuckle near his ear. _Oh Dio caro... where is a fucking gun when you need one..._

“Want one?” the voice was gruff but with hints of teasing and Lovino’s eyes were on the opened pack of neatly arranged white sticks. His eyes went to Scotland, and then the cigarettes, and to Scotland again. With a trembling hand, Lovino took one and before he could ask for the lighter, a little flame danced in front of his face. A small drag and the smoke went deep into his lungs for a few seconds then slowly exhaling it. Another chuckle made him open his eyes and blush because he got so lost into such a simple yet sinful gesture. “Did not know you smoke.” The Italian shrugged.

“I do not… I mean I do but ah fuck it. Si, I do but no one knows besides my brother and he disapproves of it.” With that, he took another long drag from the stick and licked his lips. A small smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.

“Tried to quit it then?” Scotland leaned against the table more comfortably, intent on making conversation with the usually grumpy Italian.

“No, not really. Just …” he shrugged; he himself did not know why he stopped a few months ago. “I do not know…” but then he shuddered and his smirk dropped, while he remembered why he suddenly stopped. Antonio, the personification of Spain almost caught him. He threatened Feliciano to keep the secret, but one evening after North Italia left for Germany, Romano got angry and smoked an entire pack and when he went to buy another, he met Antonio. There was a long and awkward explanation why he reeks of cigarette smoke and playing with a lighter. After agonising moments Antonio let out an idiotic giggle and subtle displeasure of what might happen if his little tomato might indulge in such a sinful and tainted habit.  _Dio… that was such a narrow escape._ He doesn’t even want to imagine what would Antonio do if he would find out. Ignoring the fact that sometimes Antonio smokes too along with his so-called friends. When will be the day he will recognise Lovino for a grown-up nation and respect him for that? The south part of Republica Italiana is tired of being treated like a small child just as when he was a Spanish colony. 

“… so let’s go?” suddenly he realised that he kind of spaced out and missed something to do with going somewhere.

“What?” he expected exasperation, irritation, a look that would spell thoughts of retardation and stupidity, the usual he receives from the other nations. While his brother is on the same page as him, they all gush over him of how cute and adorable and whatever he is.

“With the delegation? You know sightseeing that usually follows this kind of meetings?” _Fucking shit… forgot about that…_ as much as Lovino would love to refuse, he was here on his own. He could not just send Feliciano instead, so he manned up and nodded. Walking around the city, Lovino just looked around in a boring manner but wisely chose to shut up and not insult the host. Of course, in his own opinion, nothing could compare with his and Feliciano’s land. The sun that shines on green trees and paved roads. The lovely language that resembles singing rather than speaking. The treasures left behind by Nonno Rome. Lovino secretly loved the Spanish land too, well at least he thought it was still a secret. He grew up running the Spanish heels, and tending to his caretaker’s gardens. _Ahhh fuck… I want tomatoes. Big, red and juicy tomatoes._ His most cherished memories are kept safe between the Spanish villa’s old walls, his childhood was spent there along with playful days and merry evenings, and there were days when he would forget that he was a nation. For Antonio treated him as a simple child, bringing joy to his days.

“So what do you think?” Lovino cringed at the question and suddenly an eerily familiar voice ranged throughout his head… _“Do not be mean Lovi… this way you will have more friends, si?”_

“It is ok…?” the answer came forced and unsure… and that made Lovino cringe even more. He expected many things but not the sudden throaty chuckle and an arm around his shoulders. Although he felt quiet uncomfortable with the sudden invasion of his personal space. Now, Lovino loved physical attention as much as his younger brother and to be franks any Italian, really. But unlike his fratellino, he enjoyed the attention from family, friends and potential lovers only. Others made him uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, no other place is like your own… but coming from you, I will take as a compliment.” What part of Lovino’s behaviour made Scotland think he complimented him, he could not understand, but if it saved his sexy Italian ass then he was all for it. “Ya’ know what will blow your mind?” not that Lovino was interested he just wanted to remove the arm that was still around his shoulders and go to his hotel room. “I will show you the lake, what do ya say?”

“Lake?” it took Lovino only moments to understand what lake… “… you mean the one with the monster?” the glare he received made Lovino remember that this was England’s fratellone.

“Nessie is not a monster!”  _Ah so this one is crazy too… it must run in the family…_ slowly Lovino nodded and was watching him wearily, his Italian instinct to flee was already kicking in. A rather frightening jolt run its course throughout his system when Scotland tightened his grip around his shoulders. “I’ll show ya.” Lovino wanted nothing more but run away to the safety of his old rustic towns and hide there from everyone and anyone. He tried to shake his form from the scot’s strong grip and biting his tongue from cursing the nutcase out.

“Ca-can I have a … a cigarette, pe-per favour…?” he needed a fix, and needed it now, because without the smoke in his lungs with the threat of choking him to death, Lovino will lose it and make everything worse. The pack was immediately offered and an already lighted laughter was almost shoved in his face, the eager smirk made him even more nervous, so it was not a surprise that his hands were shaking not only from the pent-up anger but also from somewhat frightening aura that the nation emitted. A gut feeling was ringing bells inside the Italian’s head, yet he could do nothing more but comply with the delegation and suck it up.

“Ready to go?” without waiting for an answer, Scotland started to drag him towards an unknown direction away from the busy diplomats.

“N-no… maybe we shouldn’t?” a deep throaty chuckle as heard from the Scot.

“Of course we should.” Suddenly the Italian’s hair was ruffled quiet rudely.

“The fuck was that for?” if anything angered the Italian more than Germans was someone messing with his hair, or touching his face, or his tomatoes, or in general breathing and existing.

“Stop being so stiff, will ya? I heard your cursing before and have seen your behaviour. Just be yourself, you are not fun this way at all.” Well that was all that the Italian needed.

“Fuck you too asshole!” which made Scotland laugh even more, and that frightened and angered Lovino.

“That is the feisty Italian I know!” _He doesn’t fucking know me for shit…what is he playing on?_ Unwillingly he followed him to what Lovino could only guess was the lake. “Say Romano, you and Spain…” a raised eyebrow from yours truly, “… is there anything between you and him?” _Da’ fuck…_

“Che cosa?... Just what the fuck made you think that I and… and  that… that Spanish bastard are … are to-toge… are like that?” Lovino could feel his face burning. His hands were flying everywhere and he was breathing hard. _Just what in all the seven hells is wrong with these people…_

“Hmm… I see, not that it matters yeah?” a spluttering Italian was again being dragged away and another cigarette was shoved into his twitching fingers and lighted up by a smirking Scot.

“What do you fucking mean? The fuck was that?” the Italian just could not give it up even if he inhaled the smoke and slightly calmed down. The arm was again dropped over his shoulders and pulled closer.

“Nah, just interested you know, you guys are very close so it is only natural to assume.” The smirk disturbed Lovino greatly, but wisely kept his tongue in check. “For starters I am single…” a wink was sent towards the shorter male, which made him shudder.

“Not that I fucking care… I do not swing that way! I am a manly Italian man!” the blush and the running gaze of course told another story, besides no nation was entirely straight or even fully gay. For they represented all of their people with all of their quirks.  _The fuck am I saying?_ He received an amused chuckle as an answer and the blush intensified. Lovino truly hoped that the other man was not coming onto him, yet at the same time, he was glad that it was he and not Feliciano. He does not want his little brother to deal with this, but on the other hand, he had that fucking potato muscles to protect him. On the other hand, he had Antonio, but there are two drawbacks to this plan of informing the Spanish ex-conquistador. First is that Lovino was not suicidal and has a healthy love for freedom and is not to keen having a 24/7 Spanish conquistador breathing down his neck and being closed in a tower somewhere on Spain’s land. And the second reason, after the defeat of the armada, Antonio mellowed down a little, and Lovino did not want to risk a Third World War that would result in a second Spanish Empire.

“You are not that bad, lad ya know…” the blush that dusted his cheeks was quirt endearing and cute, or so thought the Scot and had a half a mind to tease him again and try to colour them more.

“Grazie… you are not that bad either… I guess…” the answer was mumbled in a shy and awkward attempt to being nice. After reaching the parking lot and approaching, a quiet run down yet obviously cared for black Audi car.

“Oi wanker!” a new voice with a heavy British accent resounded through the parking lot and the arm around Lovino’s shoulders tightened in what appeared irritation. The blond figure leaning against the car’s hood was no other than England himself, personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and he did appear angry, more so than the usual. _Porca miseria... I am fucking dead..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~~ now please review and comment :3


	6. North – safe haven for the troubled South

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday another chapter :) please enjoy~~ next chapters I will also try to upload on Mondays but seeing as I start working officially it might take a little bit longer to update... but do not worry I will finish this story and start more :)

“ North – safe haven for the troubled South ”

            If the arm felt uncomfortable before, Lovino wanted nothing more but to wake up in his bed next to Feliciano and whine about this being a nightmare. That arm felt so heavy, the grip tightened like a spasm, and the Italian was sure it might even leave bruises; _Good luck explaining that to Spain... fuck even Feliciano might go ballistic over it..._

“Why hello there little brother...” the voice was laced with irritation but also some kind of teasing tone, and not the playful one Lovino was accustomed hearing. It had a dark undertone and the Italians fleeing instinct was ringing alarms louder than ever.

“What are you doing Allistor?” the sentence came off more like a growl and Lovino made a move to get away but the arm around his shoulders held him in place.

“Helping out, Artie dearest, ya’ know.” Lovino could not understand the joke, if there was one. The only thing he could understand at the moment was that he was in deep shit trouble with the scary nation. Not even the nicotine intake could calm his frazzled nerves. The brothers kept starring at each other and Lovino could see the levels of anger turning to a boiling point.

“What are you on, you bloody wanker! Not only you call on an entire delegation behind my back but ... “ Britain was so angry he could not finish his thoughts. And the arm around the Italians shoulders not only was further tightening but also slightly started to tremble what Lovino could only guess was anger.

“I am my own country little brother, I do what I want!” the word was spoken through gritted teeth and were so sharp that Lovino flinched from them.

“Some country Scott!” at that, the English man laughed bitterly... “Not only you chose the most cowardly country to ally your sorry arse with... but you got the wrong Italian!” Lovino could not breathe. The cigarette carelessly dropped on the shiny surface of the genuine Italian leather brand shoes. _Wrong Italian... I am the wrong nation... fuck no... I am not even worth being considered a fucking nation... shit...not even a fucking half nation... Oh Dio..._ the words kept playing and re-playing inside his head and biting his lip tried to keep the trembling to the minimum.

“What are you fucking on Arthur? Exactly because of this attitude you are always alone...” Lovino felt being jerked around and the sounds all blended together. He wanted nothing more but to run. He wanted... no... He needed Antonio. He needed to be assured that at least one nation, one person in this entire world considered him at least half of a nation. Lovino needed to know that at least Antonio cared. For all the trouble Lovino is, he cares about Antonio’s opinion on him, on anything really. _I should be used to this. I fucking should be used to all this... it hurts... why it fucking hurts!!!_  “... am I right Romano?” suddenly all the attention was on him and Lovino was anything if ready. Opening, closing his mouth a few times, and being more pressured from the intimidating glare from the brit and the bruising hold of the scot he did as any self-respecting Italian would do in a situation like this.

“Vaffanculo! Chigi~!!” and with that the two bickering brothers were left in a settling dust and no sign of the Italian. Lovino did not care where he was going. The only thing was to get away from there, very far away from those two. He does not know for how long he ran but as the paces got slower until the out of breath and flushed, Italian was just walking aimlessly through the streets of Scotland himself. Vision blurry from the unshed tears and body tense, the fingers twitching uncontrollably. Lovino saw a vending machine selling some kind of cigarette packs and without actually thinking went and bought two packs. Sitting on a bench half of the pack was gone without even noticing. _Feliciano will kill me... fuck Antonio will slaughter me with his old halberd..._ while the thoughts were registering another stick was light and brought to a pair of parted pink lips. _I need to fucking get home..._ with that he took his phone and dialled a number that is familiar and after a few dialling tones a cheerful voice resounded that put Lovino’s nerves at ease.

“Vee~~ Ciao fratello~~!” a small smile broke on the older italian’s lips.

“Ciao fratellino.” A small pleased giggle made Lovino beam with affection and slightly shake his head throwing the half burned stick no needing it anymore.

“Is everything bene Lovi~~?” Oh how much Lovino wanted to tell him that _Si, everything is fucking fucktastic..._

“Listen Feli, I need to get home as soon as possible, va bene?” a small worried _vee~~_ clenched at Lovino’s heart strings.

“Ughh but the next flight is only to Venice vee~~” _Fuck it all to hell..._ “... but Vincento, my neighbour has the key to the small studio I own there fratello.” _Grazie a Dio!_

“Grazie fratello, get me the ticket, I am on my way to the airport.” Hanging up Lovino caught a cab and was on his way to the lovely Venice, the heart of his little brother, Italia Venetiano. Boarding a plane not meant for political purposes was a pain in the ass, that and flashing the nation’s papers would rise a hassle and Napolitano would be immediately informed of the mission dissertation. Romano had to use the fake, well not that fake, mostly modified documents that all nations had for situations like this, more or less. Therefore, Lovino Romano Vargas was a young adult flying home from what may have appeared a ruined vacation in Edinburgh. The plan was to stay in Venice for a day then board a train to Rome and be done with this catastrophically delegation mission. Try to convince Napolitano that it is entirely not Lovino’s fault and if that does not work to hail his ass to the safety of his precious baby until times has calmed and Lovino himself deemed safe to return to Rome. _I can already taste the tomatoes... mmm~~_ relaxing in his sit and thanking the lords above for the lack of annoying little children his eyes started to feel tired and slowly Lovino fell asleep.

            A loud boom and a violent shaking woke Lovino up with a frightening start. Some aisle down you could hear children crying and some other people praying. _This is not my fucking day is it?_ It appeared that the plane was going through a wild storm accompanied by raining and trashing wind and complete with lighting and thunder, Lovino’s favourites. Closing his eyes and fingering the rosary around his neck the Italian started to mumble softly under his breath.   _Domine Iesu, Per vagitus Tui in praesepio pro me nascentis, Per lacrimas Tui in cruce pro me morientis, Per amorem Tui in tabernaculo pro me viventis, Miserere mei et salva me. Amen._ Just when Lovino had a mind to repeat the phrases, the intercom came on.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Alitalia Airlines speaking, we are sorry for the discomfort brought to you by the unexpected weather outside. For safety reasons we are going to have an emergency landing until we will be allowed to continue our fly.” _Grazie Dio…Amen…_ “Currently we were allowed green light and we started our descent above Hamburg Airport, Germany. Thank you for your cooperation.” At that exact moment, Lovino was not so sure that it was God, which heard his prayers. _This stupid ass day wants my death!_ Lovino, not only had to deal with an intimidating Scotland but also then were drugged through the mud by a scary England. Took a rush plane to Venice only to get scared half to death by an unexpected storm and now he has to land on that Potato territory. _Life is so unfair… well at least it is not France…_ buckling up and preparing for the descent; his brain was trying to work what to do after the landing. After some more disturbing turbulences and a rough landing Lovino was still seated and looking into space gripping the handles of the seat. When the plane was almost empty a very good looking fly attendant approached the still seating Italian.

“Signore? Are you ok?” with a snap of his head, two hazel somewhat irritated eyes were looking at the startled girl. Shaking his head and deciding that it is not her fault that Lovino had a black streak of misfortune these days, offered and apologetic smile.

“No, everything is fine, Grazie mille for the safe landing bella.” The smile that was returned warmed Lovino’s heart, his people are purely beautiful. With that, he got out the plane and instantly was face to face with terrible thunder and lightning bolts that were crashing all around him. Biting lower lip he made a wild dash into the illuminated airport, taking a seat next to a huge window, Lovino called Feliciano.

“Ciao fratello! Vee~~” a chirrup like greeting resounded through the phone, and Lovino relaxed more in the chair letting out a soft smile.

“Feli, ciao.” His voice sounds tired and a little scared.

“Is something the matter Lovi? It is too early to call from Venice. Vee~~ I do not understand.” The voice of the younger Italian sounded equally confused if not slightly worried.

“We got fucking caught in a stupid shit storm and had to fucking had an emergency landing.” Lovino knew he was whining and he wanted it just like that, it was not fair that Feliciano was all warm and safe somewhere. _Possible in the arms of stupid fucking potato mass that smells of greasy disgusting sausages too_. The horrified gasp made Lovino a little happy; it was great when people were worried about you occasionally. And that made Lovino exaggerate his whining, he was scared and bored right now. “I am tired and cold Feli. Also I am so hungry; I have not eaten anything today but the morning coffee.” The sound effects coming from the phone amused Lovino and made him forget about the storm outside. But then again, he really was tired because he missed his siesta today, and he did not eat anything because Scottish food is still English food, plus those people are related and Lovino Romano Vargas is not taking any chances with that.

“Vee~~ What are we going to do fratello?”

“I don’t fucking know. This storm does not appear to calm down, if anything it is picking up in intensity. Oh porca miseria…” an understanding hum made his way to Lovino’s ears through his phone speakers.

“But where did you land Lovi? Is it safe there? Vee~~” with that Lovino snorted. _Safe enough for you little shit…_

 “Where are you Feli?” the question had a tired tone to it, being used so many times towards the younger of the two.

“I am still in Rome fratello vee~~ why? Is it a scary nation? Should I call big brother Spain for help?” the tone got scared and panicking making Lovino roll his eyes.

“Fuck no. I am… shit I am in Hamburg Airport now. Potato’s freaking territory.” The relieved sigh that the other made infuriated Lovino so much that a string of cursing in both Italian dialects and Spanish came out his mouth. An excited giggle stopped Lovino from upgrading his cursing skills into Latin. “You just did not giggle on me, you little shit.”

“Scuzi Lovi~. Vee~~ but you cannot stay there Lovi~~.”

“And what do you suppose I do, call Napolitano? A good load of shit he can pull!” the sarcasm was heavy, not that it was needed.

“Vee~~ Hamburg is not that far from Berlin. I will call Germany, si?”

“No! Wait you are not going to call any freaking mucho potato bastards, capishe?” at that moment everyone in the waiting room at the airport looked at the standing yelling young man near the window. Not that Lovino gave a crap about that, he had more important matters to deal with than a few idiotic humans staring at him. Like keeping away from a certain potato brain freak that his little brother wanted to feed him to.

“Vee~~ oh va bene Lovi~~ I will not call Germany.” Why Lovi felt like his younger brother was patronizing him, walking right into a deadly trap. “You can then sit at the airport for who knows how many days; storms at Germany’s house are scary. Vee~~ and eat disgusting German airport food, being tired, hungry, alone, sounds like fun si Lovi~ vee~~?” well when he put it that way, Lovino was not sure anymore.

“The potato freak also has disgusting food, plus you said he has scary ass huge dogs and an albino bastard for a brother, plus I kind of have a problem with his entire existence. And it is fucking the end of the world just outside this fucking window, you asshole!” a faint tap on the wet window was heard by the younger through the phone speaker. Feliciano could do nothing but sighing, because he knew Lovino was right, well right about the scary storm, he was watching the weather news right about now. That and Lovino’s general dislike more like hatred towards the German nation. 

“Vee~~ si you are right Lovi~~. But what can we do then?” he was genuinely worried for his brother.

“I don’t know yet. I will lounge about here for a while and when everyone is settled I will see if I can find some place for me too.” That brought a small smile on Feliciano’s face, for all the dark behavior of the South Italy, his priority always laid within humans, and then himself. After all nations, are somewhat immortal and they do exist solely because of humans.

“Va bene fratello. Keep in touch with me, si?”

“Sure thing Feli, you do the same and close all the doors stupido. Ciao~!” a small Ciao and after that the line went dead. _Maybe I should call Antonio?... Nah~! He will freak out… I need some smokes…_ With that, Lovino started to search where he could procure another pack of smokes in the overcrowded German airport.

            After a while, he found himself seated in the same place, because he could see the dark and wet window, plus the smoking room was just next to him. _I should fucking travel this light more often… stupid luggage… still at that bastard’s place._ The cigarettes were kind of helping to relax, yet his body trembled and jumped every time it flashed and then boomed, which was constantly. It was about 3 hours from the last time he spoke with Feli and told him that all the hotel rooms were full. Therefore, he will just lie on the seats. Not that he was alone; there were others in sleeping bags or just sitting on the floor. _Stupid neat freaks… even in this situation everything is fucking shining in cleanliness._ Just to spite the general German population he put up his shoes clad feet on the seats and smirked in satisfaction when a couple of tall blond haired and blue eyed Germans glared at him. Suddenly a slightly flushed tall, buff blonde-haired person haired with cold blue eyes was half running half walking towards him.

“What the crapola…?”

“Italia Romano… I was looking for you. Finally I found you.” A gruff voice heavily accented voice was directed to the still wide-eyed and open mouthed Italian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks loads for reading and please comment and appreciate the work, critic is also welcome and if you have suggestions on what you would like to see in the future chapter please do not hesitate to tell me.


	7. Driving in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday another chapter. Although this is more of a filler chapter I am trying to roll the plot ball already :3 Enjoy~~

VII

“ Driving in the Rain ”

            _What the actual fuck is he doing here…_ Lovino still sat there and looked at the Germany personification not believing his eyes. Then narrowing his eyes and scowling darkly, _I am going to fucking slaughter that pasta-loving freak… no I will feed him marmite and then slowly slaughter him with a blunt spoon…_ The German slowly was becoming uncomfortable with all of this silent glaring, he was used to loud Italians either demanding pasta and siesta or throwing things at him and insulting his very existence.

“Um… Italien called me and said you are stranded here, the storm will go on for a few more days…”

“Are you fucking for real mucho potato? Not only you are brainwashing my fratellino, but now you decided to make it storm and have me stranded on this God forsaken potato and sausage infested hell you call land, si?!” Lovino knew he was being silly, but he will be damned if he won’t blame everything on the German.

“Wurst.” _Wait, what?_

“Che?” is the asshole cursing at him?

“The sausage is called wurst, Romano.” Germany was slightly smirking, finally having taken the South by surprise, and it was so easy too, and fun. “Now, we should go, with this storm getting stronger we might reach Berlin in about 4 hours.” And with that the German turned around and started to walk towards the exit of the airport, quiet confident that the fuming Italian will follow.

“What the fuck am I going to do in fucking Berlin, potato breath?” well Lovino was not stupid enough to stay in the airport either, so going with the German was the best option for now. The tall intimidating German turned to him with a raised eyebrow and shrugged.

“I am offering my house to you, Romano, but if you want to stay here, it is your choice, Ja?” gritting his teeth Lovino brushed past the German towards the exit, but then stopped and turned around poking the hard muscled chest.

“I am fucking cooking while there, got it?” Germany nodded. “Let’s go Potato freak.” Getting to the sliding door, Lovino was met with heavy rain and frequent lightning and thundering, making him shiver and bite lip from letting out small yelps of fright. A sudden movement besides him revealed Germany opening a huge black umbrella and keeping it up over their heads. Feeling a huge but warm hand on his back, Lovino wanted nothing more than to cuddle right now. _Antonio…_ with that he swallowed and started to walk in the direction Germany was slightly leading. In front of Lovino was a sleek, glistening in the rain, a black, looking new BMW jeep. _This is so fucking German… yet it is beautiful… slightly… ughhh fucking Germans!_ Lovino had a great weakness for cars, but he will never admit that Germans make good cars, because if his opinion still mattered in the car manufacturing industry, which it does, Italian beauties are the fucking best. The car beeped along with a flashing of the lights and Germany was opening the front door for the Italian. With a scowl and low muttered curse, Lovino got into the car, noticing the leather seats and frowning in disgust at the thought of spending so much time with the German in a car. After the door was closed, Lovino closed his eyes and leaned in the seat sighing and relaxing the first time after he got out the plane. Not even the sound of door opening, the bouncing of the car that notified the Italian of the German that got in, nor the sound of the door being closed have not prompted the Italian to open his eyes.

“Could you buckle up Romano? Bitte.” The silence was disturbed by the deep voice of a German accented speech.

“Fuck you.” It was an automatic response and held no bite in it, just the voice of a tired person that really did not give a shit at the moment.

“I would hate to be stopped by the police, plus it is for safety reasons too.” Germany was calm and sincere in his explaining. He really would hate to be stopped by the police, and the storm was getting stronger and the road was slippery. The German did not want to be the cause of an injured Italian nation. That and the younger Italian clearly specified that Romano will be in his care, the last thing he wanted is to break the promise to his friend. Suddenly he was looking into two tired yet bright hazel eyes. Romano had turned his head and was watching him, not glaring angrily but just studying him. It slightly unnerved the German, and with a heavy sigh, the passenger seat belt was tugged and buckled in. Romano has closed his eyes again. Shaking his head, Germany turned on the car and gently drove out the parking lot of the airport and into the almost empty autobahn. The only noise you could hear was the rumble of the strong motor and the gentle breathing of both nations. After half an hour of silence, Germany was sure that the Italian fell asleep so it was not his fault when he slightly jump at being startled from the voice next to him.

“Did Feli call you?” he looked at the Italian from the corner of his eyes, head being turned to the window with eyes still closed. Germany cleared his throat before answering, carefully selecting his words and the intonation, knowing that anything could anger the fiery nation.

“Ja. He was very worried.” The smooth relaxed face frowned and Germany heard an irritated click of the tongue.

“And you fucking drove from freaking Berlin all the way to this fucking hell hole through this shit-ass storm?” at this point Romano was looking at him through narrow eyes. If Germany were to answer honestly, it seemed pretty crazy to do that. Nevertheless, when Italy called sounding panicked and serious for once, Germany got worried that something might have happened, and while he did not receive any lengthy explanation unlike the usual, he understood that Romano was alone, with no means of transportation in a German airport. Which was a surprise in itself, seeing as southern Italy hated anything to do with Germans.

“Ja, if I have waited then it would have been impossible to get to you later. By tomorrow the storm will get even more violent.”

“You fucking drove to another potato infested city to get me, because that dimwitted brother of mine told you to.” It did not sound like a question; it was not intended to be a question, just a plain simple fact. Germany did not like where this was going. “Are you stupid or something?” Germany was not offered a chance to say anything, so he just kept silent and braced for the insults that he knew were to come. “Do you do anything Feli tells you to?”

“Nien, I do not.”

“Do you even have brains or is it just a rotten potato in there?” Germany swallowed and counted to ten. Romano would have continued if not for the sudden serving to the right and stopping of the car. He was fucking sure you were not allowed to do that on the German autobahns, Romano wanted to tell him just that but the glaring icy blue eyes quieted him up fast.

“Italia Romano, bitte, stop insulting me in my car and even in my house. I have been awoken very late after an exhausting day of meetings and politics, had to drive for four hours straight through as you said this shit-ass storm to come and get you to safety. I am offering you a warm shelter and food. I know that for some unknown to me reason you hate, no despise me, but bitte, bitte can we at least pretend to get along or just simply ignore each other.”  

_Well fucking strike me now, he not only is able to talk but also curse…_ Romano was greatly intimidated by this nation on regular basis, add the glaring and being alone with this huge nation in a car in the middle of who knows where and Romano was ready to either pull out the white flag or go all mafia southern style on him. However, the moment Germany repeated the curse Romano so eloquently described the storm with, something snapped and the Italian could not help but want to break in a fit of childish giggles. Of course he will not be reduced to giggles in front of Germany, that is why the left corner of his mouth slightly rose upwards and was smirking at the driver.

“I thought you like rules.” The German was clearly confused not only by the words but also it is the first time he saw Romano smiling, well technically he was smirking, but it is the first time to see him other than the standard frowning, yelling in anger or being scared. Tonight it is proving to be full with surprises for the German nation.

“Was?” Germany wanted to hit himself for the not so clever response.

“You Germans love rules, no?” Germany nodded and the smirk grew along with it “You are not allowed to stop here dumbass.” With that, Germany’s face grew red in what Romano could only assume was embarrassment and in no time at all, the car was speeding again. After an awkward pause, the German cleared his throat again.

“I was not aware you knew traffic rules.” Not a moment after he said that, Germany regretted it, but instead of being yelled at and possibly murdered, the Italian just raised an eyebrow and scowled at him.

“I do not only make cars potato bastard, but drive them too in case you were not aware of it.” Wisely, that statement was followed with silence. But not for long. “What in the seven hells gave you that fucking absurd idea any fucking way?”

“I… I am sorry; it was a poor attempt at humor, Romano.” Romano clicked his tongue again in irritation. Which kind of made Germany curious for he mostly heard only Romano doing that. Was it a Romano thing only, but strangely enough Germany rather liked it.

“I am still fucking waiting asshole.” Germany really did not want to elaborate on that.

“It is what Italien said once.” Germany noticed both the darkening expression when he said Italien and the swift movement of the chin in a sign that he assumed was to continue. “In Milan, traffic lights are compulsory. In Rome they are a suggestion. In Naples they are decorations.” He was met with a snort and a chuckle.

“Damn right he is!” the voice was smug and filled to the brim with pride. “Not that he fucking knows what a traffic light is even if you hit him with one in that stupid face.” Germany was confused.

“But it is just a saying, right?” he wanted confirmation, because this makes no sense. Yes, he has been to Italy’s house before for vacations, and only in the North side. He has been to Rome a few times, only for a few days and strictly for political reasons, that and he did not venture outside no matter how much he wanted to under strict threats from the nation besides him. And from what he saw and knows firsthand, North Italy and Italians in general are reckless drivers, but some of the most important rules they obey, or at least Italy does. At least he does with Germany, wait Germany does not allow him to drive much when together. Germany’s face was pale, even more so than usual. Unfortunately, his only answer was a self-satisfied smirk and a southern Italian making himself more comfortable in the seat. “Mein Gott…”  he gripped the wheel tighter and just concentrated on driving through the rain.

“Don’t you fucking worry that potato filled head of yours, I have not killed anyone while driving, yet, I think…” the shrug was so indifferent that made Germany fidget in the seat. He did not like the wording in that sentence; it had way too many loop holes for his liking. The smirk might be a hint for teasing but also it might be just sadistic satisfaction for making the German squirm. After a while, what could have possibly been about 2 hours in the infernal car, Lovino started fidgeting in the seat while sighing multiple times, then with a great huff leaned to fiddle with the player, after finding some chillout mixes on the radio he set it on low volume and relaxed in the seat again.

_Fucking better… cannot take this silence and thunder anymore… Dio where is Antonio when you need him..._ Germany did not say anything and just kept driving, occasionally passing other cars on his way, but mostly staying alone on the highways and other small roads that passed through small towns and villages. After they passed the sign that announced them exiting Fehrbellin, the car slowed down considerably.

“What the fuck is happening?” looking around through the heavy rain, Romano noticed a few construction signs.

_Dio, does he really has to slow down, it is fucking pouring no one in their right mind is working now…_

“There are some flashing lights, Romano.” Was the somewhat serious response that put Romano on edge.

“Che? Where?” looking around, finally Romano noticed a few cars, including a fire truck and an ambulance. “What the fuck?” as they approached he saw some police officers mentioning them to stop and the car gently stopping a few meters from the two officers. Even in the dark, Romano could see them both being huge and intimidating, just like the nation representing them. This looked like the kind of people you would not want to mess with. If anything, it made Romano uncomfortable and fearful. Flashlights in hands, they motioned for Germany to open the window and from there Romano could do nothing more but cringe at the seemingly rough words being exchanged, yet somehow they flowed out easily enough and dare he say _Melodic…?_ Even combined with the deep voices, it could envelope on in a comfortable and safe blanket but on the other hand, it could snatch your soul away and cut it open with just a sound. With a nod they went away and the car rambled back to life.

“It is an accident, a horrible one you might want to look the other way Romano.” Well that made the Italian more curious than anything did. South Italy was very curious by nature that got him in unnecessary trouble all the time. Therefore, it came to no surprise when his head snapped towards all the flashing lights as they drove past the horrible scene. The crumbled piece of metal did not resembled ever being a car, and even with all the rain washing away everything, Romano suspected the huge dark spots being blood and in that moment three covered stretches were loaded in the ambulance. _No fucking survivors…_ people died every day, it was a law by nature, but as a nation to see the lifeless bodies of your children, it was painful. Looking at the German that kept his face forward watching the road not giving a sign that he felt their death clenched at the Italian’s heart a little. He truly hoped there were no children in that car, innocent souls that will carry a nation’s legacy on for the future. Silently Romano turned off the music, once again returning to silence only this time it was somber. Quietly muttering a prayer for the dead and doing the cross while clutching at the little golden cross, a gift from Antonio a long time ago.

“Danke, Italia Romano.” There was no response, because none was necessary and for once Romano felt pure sympathy for the German and did not curse him out, but simply closed his eyes and relaxed in his seat. All the while Germany just kept driving through the rain silently mourning the loss of his children, all of them from all of the times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and comment on pairings and what would you like to see in the story~~ See you next Monday~~!!


	8. South East – not an usual direction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday another chapter~ I hope you guys enjoy it. This chapters may seem slow compared to the first few but that is because in about 2 more chapter the plot ball will start rolling, hopefully :3

VIII

“ South East – not an usual direction ”

            “… ano! Romano, wake up!” slowly, Romano opened his eyes and looked around himself in confusion. Outside was storming harder than ever and he was in a car. “We have arrived Romano.” Snapping his head to the felt, he was met with a huge blond nation with cold blue eyes looking at him with no expression whatsoever.

_Oh right, the potato bastard…_ looking around himself one more time he realized that indeed they have arrived. The car was parked in a garage sort of place and Germany was already getting out. Romano must have fallen asleep at some point, no wonder, he was absolutely exhausted. The door to his side was opened and large but somewhat gentle hands started to unbuckle him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” was that a smile or Romano was still sleeping. _I did not know Germans could smile…_ flailing a little he tried to get out the car without Germany’s help. However, as soon as he took a step out his other leg refused to cooperate and suddenly the floor was rushing to meet the Italian’s face. That did not happened because Romano found himself starring at the grey cemented floor from a few centimeters and gently being raised so he could stand on two legs that felt like jelly. The Italian’s face got red from both anger and embarrassment, he was so clumsy sometimes, Antonio cured him of it but there were times in great stress that it would come back. Shrugging Germany’s arm off his shoulders, he straightened the wrinkled Armani suit and followed the German to a side door that he guessed lead into the house. While taking a deep breath to prepare for the sight of general German atmosphere that will surround him throughout the next days. While opening the door, Germany stepped aside to allow Romano to pass through it first, and the Italian did so with a small huff and his usual frown deepening considerably. In that, instant Germany realized that it was a mistake to do so, because three enormous canines start barking and were rushing towards them at full speed. He did not even started to react to put Romano behind him that a gasp was heard and the door to the garage closed with a hard bang and the hall was void of any Italians, just the dogs almost knocking down their master.

_Oh Dio cane! They want to kill me. Cazzo!_ The Italian behind the door was almost on the verge of crying. Suddenly the door started to open again and Romano panicked. Trembling in fear slowly he started to back up praying to God Almighty that the car was left open.

“Romano?” the voice was deep if not slightly amused, and behind the white door, Germany was looking at him with a raised blond eyebrow.

“Brutto figlio di puttana! What the cazzo was that?” Romano was in hysterics, not only was he shitless scared of dogs of any form and type. But having three huge monsters rushing straight at him while barking plus add the stress from the entire day with Scotland and the storm, and Lovino Romano Vargas had enough. Now, when that usually happened, not that it was too often but also not too seldom, the Italian had two reactions; one, pull out his hidden gun and call on his Evil Muffins, which is the Sicilian Mafia and not only and start shooting left and right not caring at all but just relieving stress. And two, just like his fratellino, break down in pitiful and soul wrenching sobs until an angry yet caring Antonio Fernandez Carriedo with a sharp and clean halberd over his shoulder, would comfort him with cuddles, kisses and soft words in a language not native to him but still well known, oh and tomatoes too. Now in this situation, Lovino was too far from home to chose the first one, so the flood gates had broke and Germany found himself with a genuinely sobbing Italian on the floor of his garage. On the other hand, Germany was used to crying Italians, for Feliciano cries over everything, and Germany knows it is a trick yet he falls every time. But this mess in front of him was genuine from what it appeared, and while he knew that the older was also to an extent a crybaby, he have not seen it until now.

“Oh shit!” the voice was deep and German but did not belong to the blond German looking helplessly at the crying Italian that was still on the floor. “Lovi~~! Bitte stop crying, ja?” another man with platinum blond messy hair rushed past the still shocked Germany and knelt on the floor next to the sobbing mess. What shocked Germany more that the said Italian threw himself at the albino man that was his own older brother, and hugged him still sobbing. “Shh Lovi~~ shh, now tell me whose ass I have to kick, hm?” and with that the albino effortlessly picked Romano in a bride like style hold and marched into the house. While passing Germany, Prussia swiftly mentioned for him to follow, and the bigger man could do nothing more but to obey. Once in what appeared like a living room, the Prussian set Romano on a beige couch and cleaned his flushed cheeks with his own shirt.

“I want ‘Tonio, chigi~” a soft mumble was heard, and if Germany would not have firsthand experience with Italians he would have missed it entirely. At the same time Prussia nodded and took his phone dialing what Germany assumed was Spain’s phone number.

“Ja Hallo Antonio! It is the awesome me! Ksese~” nodding at something that was being said, Prussia was still holding Romano close with his other arm around the Italian’s shoulders. “Ja, Lovi~ is here, safe too! But… Ja, he wants to speak with you and he is crying…” with a last nod and some kind of agreeing sound Prussia was holding his own Smartphone towards Romano. After some more sniffling, Romano took the phone and shyly mumbled quiet an adorable greeting to Spain.

“Ciao…”  Romano snuggling closer to Prussia left Germany with his mouth hanging open.

“Mi tomato~~ que paso? Why are you crying?” at the soothing Spanish voice Romano visibly relaxed.

“I… I don’t know.” A nudge from Prussia himself made Romano scowl and click his tongue again. “I got scared I guess and the storm…” a thoughtful humming was all that Lovino heard.

“I know, Feli told me everything already. Gil will take care of you, si?” Romano knew that the question was not meant for him so he looked at the albino, which nodded and winked at him making him blush even more.

“Si, these bastards do not have a choice now do they?” a small smirk grew on the Italians face and the tears were drying at the corner of his eyes.

“Ahh~~ I wish you would be here with me now mi tomate~~”

“Quit sounding creepy you asshole!” a cheerful <Fusosososo~~> was heard that warmed the Italian’s heart.

“Si~~ now can I speak with Gil and Lovi~ please be a good boy while there, promise?” with an angry agreement Romano passed the phone to Prussia who at that moment rose and while talking rapidly on the phone took off to the kitchen, leaving Romano and Germany alone and awkward.

“Romano.” The glare he received intimidated the German, yet he kept a serious yet non-threatening expression. “I apologize for the dogs; I will keep them away from you for the time. They are harmless, but if you feel uncomfortable I will make sure that they won’t bother your stay.” A sigh and Romano sat straighter and looked at the German straight in the eyes.

“I… I…” in that exact moment Prussia came back and sat near Romano handing him a glass of Germany recognized some wine that Italy left behind.

“You good Lovi~?” the glass was taken quiet rudely and the usual frown was in full place.

“Quit calling me that you albino freak!” at that Prussia just laughed his trademark laughter and leaned on the couch.

“You gave me a fucking scare there Lovi~ I thought I had to call Toni and go axe happy on some poor freak.”  The tongue clicked again, it was making Germany more and more curious. “Might have been fun too~!”

“Si you fucking bastards are creepy like that.” While it seemed Romano was his usual insulting self, Germany noticed that the smirk was more friendly teasing than cruel as usual, and Romano leaned against the couch and Prussia’s arm.

“Hmm, so what the actual fuck happened. First Feli is all in hysterics, made us think that the world was ending or something, and then Toni calls and is a moment from going all psycho to that eyebrow’s house.” Germany became even more curious as he heard Feli’s side of the story and had no idea that Spain was also involved, that and the way Prussia was all relaxed talking to Romano as if they were close for years. With a roll of the eyes from the Italian and a huge mouthful of wine from the glass, Romano started to explain.

“ So me and the dimwit were having breakfast, and boss called fucking saying I had to go to Scotland for some sort of shitty meeting or something.” Well Germany did not know to be terrified or amused at Romano’s way of expressing himself. “ So I fucking flew there with a shit load of other politicians. Then that weirdo was being really creepy…” at that Germany felt a little angry yet curious because he noticed his brother suddenly clenching his fist and looking quiet murderous.

“How creepy, Lovi~?” a slight blush appeared on both german brothers cheeks, because the way Romano pouted , making the cherry red lips even more plump and noticeable, the nose was scrunched in the most adorable way, while still the eyes were on fire and stubborn.

“Well, he was fucking starring at me all the time and when I looked at him he would smirk and smoke like it was fucking the most normal thing ever.” Germany raised an eyebrow while Prussia scowled darkly. “Oh and he was fucking asking obnoxious question like a piece of shit he is.” Before Prussia could open his mouth, this time Germany was faster.

“What kind of questions, Romano?” a raised eyebrow and the usual frown turned into a scowl when Romano’s attention fell on him, Germany did not like it. Why was Romano casual to Prussia and so hateful to him?

“Like if I am fucking dating someone and if that someone is Antonio.” Well in Germany’s opinion not that harmful of questions, a little too private but not dangerous. Also everyone kind of knew that Romano was with Antonio, right?

“You should Toni about this.” Apparently, Prussia had another opinion. The shocked face that was pointed at Prussia was priceless.

“Why?! He was just being creepy because that what assholes that are related to that caterpillar face do!” Germany smirked; Romano had a wild imagination in insulting people.

“Exactly! But let’s not forget that while they are related, Scotland is not on friendly terms with England, and he is not independent from him either.” Romano snorted and Germany frowned. “Why did he call you there? Was England there too?” Germany understood where Prussia was going, but Romano was independent from Spain, he could not help in any case.

“He came later…” was the quiet mumble. “He fucking came later when we were touring that shitty city, and he was angry…”

“… and you fucking run away, Ja?” the heavy conclusion was made by Prussia none too gently, making Romano greet he teeth in anger. But at the same time Romano nodded looking into the empty wine glass. Running a hand through his already wild and messy hair, Prussia sat next to the pouting Italian and ruffled his hair; the Italian clicked his tongue again, but did nothing to push the Prussian away. “You have made the right choice.” And what shocked Germany more was the warm blush that cutely settled on the Italian’s face and the awkward but obviously warm hug that Prussia received and in that moment something in the German’s heart shattered. What did his older brother have and he did not. Why couldn’t Romano be friendly to him too, or is he too naïve in his conclusion about them? With an awkward throat, clearing that separated the other two nations that were hugging on his couch, Germany rose to his feet.

“I will warm the pizza. You must be hungry Romano.” And with that he left towards the kitchen frowning and quiet confused. Vaguely he heard a few snippets of the conversation from the living room.

“What kind of fucking stick is up your fucking potato bastard of a little brother?” that was followed by a whine voice.

“Lovi~~ stop being so mean it is so not cute~!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story. Please comment and review, also please suggest ideas of what you would like to happen in future chapters too.


	9. Meeting new Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday - another chapter :3 I will try to upload new chapters on Mondays but I might pretty soon change the tradition to late Sundays because I am starting work soon and won't have so much time anymore :) But do not worry I will see that this story is finished till the end :3

IX

“ Meeting new Friends ”

           _It is so fucking cold…_ with that, the heavy sleeper cuddled deeper into the covers and tried hard not to shiver, vaguely listening to the heavy rain against the closed windows. Lazily, he threw an arm and a leg on the bulk next to him. _Too fucking soft…_ raising a head and with bleak eyes looking next to him, then slowly around the room with a deepening frown. _Ughh right… the fucking Potato Bastards house…_ and with that, the head fell on the pillow and a light snoring could be heard. After a few tosses and turns, Romano along with a long-suffering like groan, got up and got dressed in a baggy hoodie that had little yellow birds on a black material and some old grey sweat pants. Clearly not something Romano would ever wear had he been in possession of that dreaded always-full suitcase. _Why is this fucking hell hole so cold!?_ Finding some warm socks, he put those on too and lazily shuffled downstairs towards the living room that by the sounds seemed to be occupied. Upon entering his sleepy brain registered one dog laying on the floor in front of the couch and another sitting on his hinge legs by the arm of the said couch and trying to lick a sandwich that was held by Prussia.

“Guten morgen prinzessen! ksesese” the albino shoot a look at him and winked still chewing the sandwich and at the same time trying to keep it from the dog. “Do not worry they are well trained, they won’t even approach you.”

“Fuck you…” was a little fearful but still sleepy replay. Romano slowly entered the room glancing occasionally at the dogs. _Weren’t there three of them?_ He scooted closer to Prussia, _For fucking safety damnit,_ and pulled his legs on the couch trying hard not to fall asleep yet again but failing miserably.

“Bruder! How many times I told you not to eat on the couch!” the sudden angry voice and speaking German startled the snoozing Italian making him jump in surprise and yelp a little looking around him with dazed but widened eyes.

“Ksesese~~! Weeest~~ you scared poor Lovi~~.” Said Italian just whined a little and snuggled closer to the Prussian seriously intending to sleep a little bit more. “Okey! Lovi~~ up, up you go! You need coffee.” Letting himself be half-dragged, half-picked by Prussia, Romano was whining childishly.

“I am sleepy you asshole and this fucking house is too cold.” Romano was intent to burry himself closer to the Prussian for the warmth. He did not care at all in this moment; Romano was a creature that feared cold even more than England’s cooking.

“In this case I will start making coffee.” For some reason Germany did not understand nor liked the seemingly close relationship, South Italy was having with his older brother. Yes, Prussia was close friends with France and Spain, but was Romano also involved in the Bad Touch Friends?

“Don’t you fucking touch my coffee you fucking potato!” a long tanned finger was poking him in the chest and Romano was looking at him al huddled in what appeared Prussia’s clothing, glaring at him. Germany supposed it was supposed to look threatening but he had to fight hard to stop the smile that almost broke, because a sleepy, pouting and disheveled Romano apparently was also a cute adorable Romano that begged to be cuddled.

“Ja, ja prinzessen, just so you know, we do not have that high quality shit you drink.”

“Well figures, you do not know high quality food even if it might be shoved down your damn throats.” Germany noticed that Prussia did not get offended, but just playfully rolled his eyes and was egging Romano on. Shrugging he followed them into the kitchen, knowing that Italians do not eat regular food for breakfast, that and he wanted to see if Italy was right and not exaggerating certain things about South Italy. While Romano and Prussia still bickered like small children other high quality food, Germany took out some grounded coffee beans and a moka coffee pot.

“Ohh you have an ibrik?” Romano seemed surprised to see the pot in Germany’s hands. But got annoyed at the confused face he was making, while Prussia was snickering in the background. “Che?” pouted Romano while grabbing the ibrik pot and adding the necessary ingredients to make a somewhat good coffee.

“What is this eebreeck you mentioned?” Prussia was almost on the floor from laughing that annoying sound of his. Romano looked at him unimpressed.

“Veneziano fucking called this a moka coffee pot, but in truth is called an ibrik you fucking potato. It is a Turkish word, you uncultured swine.” Well Germany liked new information, so he stored it in his knowledge, but how Romano knew that, just as he was opening his mouth to ask, Prussia talked first.

“Little Lovi~ was in Turkey’s care for a while, so his standards for this kind of things were influenced by them.” Germany nodded, because it made sense, although he did not know that.

“Ottoman Empire, fucker. He was an Empire at that time.” Romano put the pot on the stove and leaned against the counter to wait for the coffee.

“Ja! Und you were a little colony in Toni’s Empire.” Both nations smiled a little in what Germany supposed remembrance. “Good golden days…” Romano nodded. In that moment Germany realized that Romano was much older than he was, Italy was too and that scared but intrigued him greatly, especially Romano. “Oi! Bruder, do you have some cake leftover for the prinzessen here?” Germany nodded and opened the fridge but stood straight when a yelp was heard, and he looked towards Prussia bending at the waist and a looming Romano with a fist over him. Shaking his head, he retrieved a few slices of a chocolate cake.

“Albino freak, got some ice around here?”

“Ja, here it is.” The answer along with the ice came from Germany himself, seeing as Prussia was already gorging himself on the cake. Romano took two cubes of ice and dropped them in the scalding black coffee that Germany noticed was sugarless. Taking the cooling cup, Romano moved to the table and pulled the cake plate away from a gaping Prussia and towards himself with a wicked smirk. Well until he looked at the cake frowning.

“I did not spit in there, you know, right?” Germany rolled his eyes at Prussia and Romano just gave him the finger still looking weirdly at the cake.

“This is exactly the same cake that Feli brought home from a friend.” The statement was met with an awkward coughing and an obnoxious <ksesesese>  _It cannot be…_

“Ja, Feliciano said that you liked the cake, so I baked some more. If it is alright with you.” Roman snapped his head facing Germany looking at him with a horror struck face and a gaping mouth. Nevertheless, at the same time he could not ignore the heavy blush spreading on the German’s face, even his neck and ears were a bright red colour.

“Ma’ va, che cazzo!” Prussia kept snickering.

“What did you expect Lovi~? This is the most classic German chocolate cake you will ever taste.” Romano did not know where to look, at the German brothers or the delicious traitorous cake. On one hand, he knew from experience that the cake is amazing, on the other hand Feliciano betrayed him by feeding him German infested food made by the potato himself. “Ksesese oh and I remember something about kissing the baker, Lovi~.”

_You little piece of shit, Feliciano Veneziano Vargas, you are a dead Italian!_ Romano was sure that if Antonio would be present, he would be called a tomato right at this moment, because his face was doing wonders in red department right now. Therefore, his response was a grandiose flip to both of them and guiltily drinking the cold coffee and eating the cake, the process being accompanied by an awkward blushing German and an obnoxious little shit of a laughing Prussian that could not keep his comments to himself. After what looked like an entire hour of what Romano would call not a peaceful breakfast because Prussia apparently does not know the meaning of _shutting the hell up_ even after being threatened by yours truly with a fork, Romano started to seriously shiver from the cold. Especially as he saw both Prussia and Germany wearing nothing but sweatpants and short sleeved shirts.

“Oi! West turn on the heating, Romano kind of hates the cold! Ksesese~!” the glare that was sent to the albino was both irritating yet grateful. Germany raised an eyebrow and looked at the huddled up and shivering mess that Romano presented at the moment and shaking his head, left the room to do as he was told.

“How do you fucking survive this cold?” moving the plates to the sink and dumping them there Romano looked with a raised eyebrow at the grinning albino.

“We are awesome like that!” with that, he stood up “Let’s watch some TV. Nothing else to do with this storm outside.” Remembering the dogs, Romano figured that staying close to one of the potatoes is the best action so it was as no surprise when he followed closely. While Prussia just kind of half-sat half-laid on the couch, Romano huddled closer to him and nestled at his side more comfortable. Not moments later one of the huge dogs jumped on the couch next to Romano, making him press even closer to the Prussian that was snickering.

“Berlitz, Platz!” the voice was stern and booming through the room, making both the nations sitting jump, while the dog with his tongue out and whined a little getting off the couch a little hesitant and throwing glances at the Italian. The golden beast was joined by a somewhat fluffy obviously a German shepherd circling the coffee table and generally making a ruckus. Soon a barking smaller dog slightly elongated that was jumping and barking what looked just for the hell of it joined them. Romano was almost sitting in Prussia’s lap looking at the canines with wide eyes and body tense ready to flee any given moment. “Sorry Romano, they like your brother and you have a similar scent so they are curious.” Germany appeared in the room with a yellow-checkered blanket and laid it upon Romano’s lap. South Italy slowly got off Prussia and huddled under the blanket looking warily at the dogs that were lined in front of him. “Although is strange usually it is Blackie that follows Ita- Veneziano around and not Berlitz.”

“Which one is which?” _well of course they would like Feliciano, everyone likes him._ Germany crouched next to the dogs and the huge dark German shepherd instantly starts wagging his fluffy tail.

“This one is Aster, he is a pure bred German Shpeherd.” And with that the dog received a ear scratching. “That one is a golden retriever, Berlitz and the smaller one is Blackie he is a hunting breed, a Daschund.” Suddenly Berlitz approached the couch again and sat in front of Romano looking at him with his tongue still out. Romano looked at Germany and noticed a small smile then looked at Prussia not knowing what to do.

“Ksesese, trying petting him, he likes you.” With that, the albino took Romano’s hand and gently pulled it towards the dog, which instantly prompted him to stand up and get closer to the Italian. “Let him sniff you first and is he licks your hand feel free to pet him.” Still a little fearful Romano held his hand near Berlitz’s nose and after a few sniffs received a few warm licks that tickled. Happy that he was not in immediate danger he gently started to stroke his head liking the soft fur. “Prinzessen, this is not a cat, they like it a little bit more rough and dominant.” The albino was slapped with Romano’s free hand. Suddenly the dog jumped on the sofa again and curled next to the Italian wagging his tail.

“He is warm.” Romano gently stroked the rest of the dog’s body enjoying the warmth provided both by the blanket and by the two living things flanking him. Without noticing, a genuine caring smile bloomed on the Italians face while sighing in content and closing his eyes relaxing. Germany looked at him in shock, being the first time seeing the Italian not fussing and cursing but, being somewhat domestic. Is this how Romano truly was? The German nation had to admit that when Romano smiled like this it looked so caring and warm. Germany shook his head, no it was not cute, it was beautiful, simply beautiful and welcoming, he should smile more is what the blond had concluded in his musings.  

“Stop it you freak!” Germany blushed and focused on the Italian but was relieved when he understood that the phrase was not meant for him, but rather his brother that was playing with a few of Romano’s hair. An amused <ksesesese> later and Romano shaking his head did not stop the albino, but neither did Romano do anything to actually stop the hand, that confused Germany further. Suddenly a a blues like music accompanied by deep Italian singing voice startled not only the nations, but also the resting dogs around the room. A groan, some shuffling later and then another groan from the almost asleep Italian was all that took to inform the Germans that it was Romano’s cell phone, or more like one of those fancy huge smart phones that were so in vogue right now. “Pronto.” A rolling of the eyes and Romano getting back into a comfortable position meant that is a long phone call. “Si Feliciano, I am good. Ughhh can you be more obnoxious?” a pause and some quiet loud chirping voice was heard speaking in rapid Italian. “Why should I care if England and Scotland called?” the frown deepened and suddenly the thick Italian that Germany did not recognized ever hearing “Santo cazzo Madre di Cristo! I do not fucking give a shit for their apology. They could stick it intro culo di mammaloro!” both Germans could not understand anything but both knew enough to understand that Romano was using a very creative way of swearing in his own language. After a moment, the Italian seemed to calm down and continue with the conversation that was obviously with the other half of Italy. “No! Call him on his own phone; I need to call Antonio anyway before he goes axe happy on half a Europe. Ti voglio bene ciao~!” with that the phone call ended, and with a long-suffering sigh Romano dialed another number at the same time as the household phone went off. Germany excused himself to answer it and not disturb the already irate Italian further. “Pronto! Si si I will put you on speaker!”  

“Hallo Toni!” two obnoxious and weird snickers covered the agonizing sound of an Italian in despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you~ please comment your suggestions and leave feedback :3 see you next week :3


	10. Story Time in Stormy Germany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday another chapter~~ I hope you guys enjoy this~ so this chapter is most a somewhat from Germany's side of the story. we will go back to the usual Romano's in the next one.

X

“ Story Time in Stormy Germany ”

            By the time, Germany returned to the room Romano was sleeping against Prussia’s chest and the other was oddly quiet watching an action movie while stroking the Italian’s hair. Germany sat in an armchair opening a book and seemingly started to read, but after a few moments, he closed it back and in a quiet voice asked what it has been eating at him all day long.

“Bruder.” When Prussia looked at him from the corner of his red eyes, Germany knew he had the others attention. “You seem close to Romano.” The lazy smirk that was thrown to him greatly disturbed the blond German. “How that happened?”

“We kind of grew up together West.” The Prussian looked down at the sleeping Italian and resumed lazily playing with the others hair. “Plus back then he was always around Spain, and it was a given him being a catholic state to be protected by the order.” Germany nodded but did not really understand. Yes, Prussia first was a order, Teutonic order, then they acquired land and he named himself Prussia. Moreover, being friends with Spain guaranteed that he would around Romano. “You know I remember this time, when we were mere children, not even nations yet.” At this, the German snapped his incredulous eyes towards his older brother; could it be possible that they knew each other for so long? Prussia started to snicker and at that moment a small whine was heard and the sleeping Italian shifted, making the Prussian quiet. He patiently waited for him to continue.

“That is a long time, right? What happened?” a quiet and amused snicker from the Prussian told Germany that he will be teased for this, but for some reason Germany wanted to know. Not only Prussia was mostly secretive when it comes to personal moments from the past, but one of the Italies or even both being in the story was an incredible opportunity.

“Ja, I stole from Vatti a crop and ran into the woods to train mien awesome bird army. Ksesese I was so awesomely cute!” at that, Germany just rolled his eyes, “So I stumbled upon a sleeping Roman Empire, you know his grandvatter.” Germany sat straighter. He has seen the Great Roman Empire once, when he came from the Heaven to see Veneziano. “I thought that if I attack him and defeat him, I will be praised by Vatti, because he was always bothered by the Roman.” Another snicker “As you can imagine, it did not went as planned and Rome took me as a prisoner to his house. There I was made to clean, again did not work out. But I met his two grandchildren.” If Germany’s eyes would get any wider, they might fall of. “They might not even remember this, they were so small, toddlers, crawling around the palazzo and cooing adorably.” Germany’s head was spinning, he looked at the sleeping Italian and he could not believe it.

“So you are older than them?” Germany’s voice shook a little, this is such new and interesting information.

“It is difficult to say. You see, they came off as twins, but Romano is older and matured faster than the North. Then Romano was a child in Spain’s care, yet he is older than Spain by roughly 300 years.”

“You are joking!”

“We are nations West, we are a mystery even to ourselves. So anyway, I was scrubbing the floor, when something was launched at my head, and a single grape rolled next to me, and giggles, then another and again giggle. I got angry and accidently threw my floor brush.” The snickers could not be quietened even by a whining sleeping Italian. Germany raised an eyebrow. “Struck this one straight in the face, West! Ksesese oh the wailing after that, Feliciano was drowning in tears! Ksesese” Germany shook his head taking pity on the sleeping Italian and what he had to go through in his childhood by the hands of his brother. Maybe Germany could understand the dislike towards Germans if his brother was involved.

“What did Roman Empire do?” Prussia shrugged still grinning.

“He brought me to Vatti and said that he cannot deal with me.” Germany shook his head, but at the same time, he would give anything to be able to see that.

“Damn right he couldn’t deal with a little devil bastard.” Romano sat and rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, strands of hair being messed up from Prussia’s ministrations. Then a punch right into Prussia’s stomach followed that obviously hurt quiet a lot, yet Prussia was snickering that weird sound of his. “You fucking knocked me out like a fucking light with that stupid brush you asshole!”

“So you do remember!”

“Of fucking course I remember you being a little shit, Albino freak!” Germany’s head was turning left and right not unlike watching a tennis match.

“You fucking threw grapes at me!”

“Si a fucking tiny grape not a huge ass floor brush.” Even if Romano was pouting at was an amused one, Germany took notice. “I was a fucking toddler could not even walk properly!”

“Maybe you would have if Rome would not hold you upside down so much! Ksesese” Germany raised an eyebrow at that.

“That was Feliciano you pea brain!” but the grin on both faces were satisfied and amused.

“Upside down?” Germany was confused.

“Si, Nonno would sometime hold Feliciano fucking upside down when he was not paying attention. Maybe that is why he is such a dimwit!” Romano along with Prussia started to laugh, and Germany had to admit that a laughing Romano was surprisingly endearing.

            The day was spent in the same manner, Watching TV and Romano playing with dogs. Germany and Prussia were surprised at how fast Romano got over his fear of dogs and how fast the warmed up to the rough Italian. Yet with the animals, Germany noted, he was gentle and loving. After another some kind of movie and some bantering here and there, Romano start complaining about being hungry. After a comment from Prussia that he could cook some wurst and potatoes for him, South Italy stormed to the kitchen to cook something. At the same time both German brother stood up and went to follow the still cursing Italian, looking at each other and glaring a little, they marched towards the kitchen wondering what the other’s problem was.

“Ma’va~ What is this potato bastard!?” as soon as Germany entered his kitchen a red Italian was pointing at a spice shelf. Germany raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Veneziano brought some of his spices.” His answer apparently did not satisfy the shaking Italian still pointing at the shelf.

“This are fucking my home made spices! They kept fucking disappearing every time I would make them! And… and Feliciano was stealing them for you!?” well now Germany understood why Romano was angry.

“I apologize Romano, I will pay for them if you name the price.” And Germany was serious about this, that and he will have a talk about trading with the other Italy.

“Fuck your money! I am going to kill that little piece of shit!” and with that Romano started to rummage through every nook and cranny of Germany’s kitchen, sometimes yelling when he will find something of his there. Prussia was not helping at all but just pointing out more stuff that apparently he knew belonged to the enraged Italian.

“Bruder, you knew this belong to Romano and not Veneziano?” Germany felt a massive headache coming.

“Aha West. How could I not? One, they are very similar to Toni’s cooking and two; I know Romano’s cooking style, all homemade by him. Ksesese!” Germany shook his head, but was secretly impressed by Romano’s skills in the cooking department, and could not wait to taste it. Romano’s face was extremely red for he found that every spice, paste, herbs and even the wine was not only from his half on the nation but made by his own two hands. No wonder every time he looked in the pantry there were items missing, but he discharged it that indeed Veneziano took for his own usage, but apparently, this usage was shared with _the fucking potato bastard!_ On the other hand, Romano could use this to cook something edible if not even authentic Italian. Therefore after some winning from Prussia himself and awkward lingering from Germany himself, Romano made risotto with an African inspired garniture from liver and eggplants, topping it with a decent amount of grated cheese, a glass of wine for himself and beer for the Germans, a simple Caesar salad and some antipasto from whatever he found in the fridge. After setting the table with the help from Germany himself that felt obliged to help much to Romano’s displeasure to be in close contact with the so called potato muncher and somewhat pleased that he did not need to do the entire work himself. Prussia was happily munching on what on numerous occasions proclaimed one of his favorites Lovi’s dishes, which made Germany even more eager to try the new type of food presented to him. By taking the first bite, Germany already had an entire list of differences from the younger Italian’s own cooking, but at the same time, it was very familiar. The most notable differences being that Romano’s cooking had more consistence, the dish was heavier and had more meat and meat oriented vegetables, that and the spices were combined differently. It made the plate more savory and spicy yet very merciful compared to Spanish dishes. Germany decided that he likes it very much.

“This is very delicious Romano. “ a soft blush covered Germany’s cheeks when he heard the strange yet somewhat already familiar click of the southerner tongue. In the last two days Germany started to associate the gesture purely to Romano and found it incredibly intriguing, maybe he should find some information on the different actions that Romano did, for it was entirely different from the usual body language that the German was familiar with. The Northerner representation of Italy was fluent in body language, but somehow Romano’s was more natural yet sharp in comparison, much more passionate if Germany had to be more specific. If Veneziano was talking his body and hands were saying the same thing, yet Romano stood there silent and let his body talk for him. He did not need words, even if Germany knew for a fact that the older Italian brother was as much noisy as his younger half, if not even more so. While everyone at the table was eating, Germany noticed that the conversation at the table was flowing naturally between the fiery Italian and the Prussian, unlike when Veneziano was here. Those always felt somewhat forced, because the brothers were used to a fast silent meal, and Germany knew for a fact that Italians liked to drag their meals for a long time and fill them with lively conversations. Yet somehow it seemed that the Prussian reactions when seated with Romano was to talk and be as loud as the Italian, even Germany felt an urge to join the conversation for some reason. Wisely, he stayed quiet and ate the delicious and exotic meal in front of him. Suddenly a loud clatter was heard and the undistinguishable hissing like laughter was heard, and as Germany prepared to scold his older brother, another sound filled the entire kitchen and demanded Germany’s attention. For this was a sound he never heard before, at least not so carefree and free of malice. Romano was laughing at something either Prussia said or did, and the clattering sound heard before was the Italians fork hitting the edge of his almost empty plate. Anything that Germany wanted to say died immediately on his lips and he could do nothing more but look at the slightly flushed still laughing Italian. And again, it was so similar yet entirely different from what Germany was used. Romano’s laughter was as light as Veneziano’s but deeper and richer, like warm melted honey and a hint of mischievousness hinted at his fiery personality. Now, Germany dealt with Romano before, but that was either a very brief interaction that was filled with shouting and threats or somewhat more prolonged but with a serious political and business character that somewhat always feels fake for all the nations. Yet now, he realized that in the brief two days he became an accidental witness to series of relationships that he never thought possible. The German’s emotions were in a raging conflict not much too different as the storm outside. On one hand he somewhat felt confused and irritated at closeness of his brother and the older Italian, yet Germany truly hoped that at the end of this storm if he will not start to understand the older fiery Italian at the very least to be an accidental witness at this homely interactions of Romano and his surroundings.

“Tch! This bottle is empty you fucking Snow White!” Romani did it again, that weird and fascinating click of the tongue, and while he was waving the empty bottle in the Prussian laughing face, Germany understood that what he was witnessing was not Prussia and Romano, but rather his best friend’s older brother with his own, Lovino and Gilbert. A person, Germany realized deep down, he might never have the privilege to interact with, because in the end, the older Italian was Romano to him, and he will always be nothing more than a Potato Bastard for the fiery Italian. “What are you fucking look at Potato brains!? Make yourself useful and get another fucking bottle of wine!” with a sigh that was covered by a loud booming that came from outside, Germany could do nothing more but rise from the table and get another bottle of what he now knew was from Romano’s private homemade collection, stolen by his younger brother. With his back turned, he could not help but let a small smirk at the cabinet filled with only Italian products. So maybe Germany was introduced to Lovino’s world a long time ago and now he just have to give a hard push to the door and enter the wild exotic garden. “Hurry the fuck up potato shit!” … or maybe the door is still closed for a reason.

“Ja, West! The awesome me wants to drink some more with prinzessen here! Ksesesese~~” the hissing laughter did not end even when a loud slap reverberated through the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and leave feedback :3 see you next Sunday or Monday :3 depending when I will have time to update.


	11. A Truce over a Dirty Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday another chapter :) in other chapters and in this one and in many that will come I sometimes use head cannons that I like and I do not claim any ownership over them but I thank the original creators :) Enjoy a new chapter~

XI

“ A Truce over a Dirty Secret ”

            After about three more days, Romano appeared to be at ease with the dogs, but only when one of the German brothers would be in the room. Otherwise, he would flee to his temporary bedroom or hide himself huddled with a checkered blanket on a small balcony to the side of the house, above what he only could guess is the garage. None of his hosts knows that he sometimes takes refuge there with a cigarette between his lips and a piece of gum in his mouth afterwards. Unfortunately, his pack has finished yesterday evening, and that only added to already building irritation that settled in him at the end of his third day in this house. Romano did not like to stay inside for more than a day or two if he can help it, so being coped here for roughly five days left him with a cabin fever that was kept at bay with cooking, playing with the dogs and secretly smoking. When the limited amount of ingredients that could be transformed into an Italian meal were almost gone, the cigarette pack finished Romano was at a boiling point. Therefore, when that evening while setting some simple pasta with tomato sauce on the table along with some cut vegetables dipped in olive oil and dried basilica, Romano was informed that the few Italian bottles of wine were entirely gone. The Italian felt like screaming and punching someone in the face, preferably the grumbling Prussian that was complaining about the last beer bottle. Both German brothers were surprised when Romano set the last plate on the table and without a word left the kitchen.

_Vaffanculo! Porca miseria!_ His legs lead him to the small balcony, so setting himself on the small chair that he put there he leaned onto his knees and cradled his face while shaking. _When will this fucking storm end! I want to go home…_ the sound of the door opening and closing did not even make him raise his head.

“Leave me alone Gilbert, per favore.” Therefore, when his face was licked by a whining Golden Retriever, he smiled and hugged the affectionate dog around his neck and looked at the intruder. The wide surprised eyes narrowed as soon as the intruder turned out to have blond hair and cold blue eyes. “What the fuck do you want now?” Germany did nothing more but close the door behind him and pointedly looked at the crumpled empty cigarettes pack on the floor.

“I did not know you smoked, Romano.” And the small smirk was brought by the sound of a clicking tongue.

“I don’t!” Romano licked his lips and run a hand through his already disheveled and curling locks. “I mean I do…” his sentence was interrupted by the click of a lighter and the sudden smell of nicotine. Looking up, Romano saw Germany take a drag and slowly exhale it.

“Me neither.” He threw a smirk towards the surprised Italian; the silver pack of Marlboro was extended towards him. With a small smile, Romano took a single stick and while putting it in his mouth stood up and in one-step was next to the German that was ready with the lighter to light it up. “I had quit after the Fall of the Wall. But now and then I crave one anyway.” Romano nodded because he understood, the only thing is that he never had to quit because technically he never had the habit. “You are upset.” Romano scowled.

“I want home.” Germany just looked at the falling rain and petted Berlitz. “Does Gilbert know?” with that he exhaled the smoke from his lungs.

“Ja. He never quit.” An amused chuckle from Romano made Germany smirk a little.

“Don’t tell him.” Romano shifted uncomfortably, and Germany raised an eyebrow. “He will tell Antonio and then I am fucked.” A long drag from his cigarette and Germany crushed his cigarette butt in the old crumpled packet.

“Only if you start calling me Germany instead of those nasty names.” Any minute now, Germany knew that a string of colourful insults in both Italian and English would come towards him, maybe even a burn from the finished cigarette. Romano snatched the empty pack and violently crushed the butt.

“Sometimes I just fucking might. Germany.” Popping a piece of gum in his mouth, Romano went inside followed by an eager Berlitz. Germany looked at the rain with a soft smile and decided that maybe keeping this a secret is better than have Romano’s wrath upon him again. Besides, to be honest, Germany liked the way his name fell from the Italian’s lips. Upon his return Germany found that both the residents and the dogs did not wait for him to start eating, and with a sigh, he sat and slurped at the pasta in front of him.

            A lazy Sunday noon, just after a siesta, still curled with Berlitz on the couch and Aster on the ground looking at Blackie as he chased a ball around the living room, made Romano realize that he spent an entire week here, away from his dear home, his brother, and his people. Looking around he noticed that he was alone with the dogs and that Aster turned to him and lazily yawned. Nudging the golden canine of the couch, Romano huddled with the blanket and stretching looked around to figure where the others are. Padding softly in a pair of warm fuzzy yellow socks that obviously belonged to Prussia, he went in the direction of the stairs that lead to the basement, or more commonly known as the most awesome lair of Prussia. Gently opening the door and looking inside, Romano saw Prussia sleeping with most of his body off the bed and snoring away. Closing the door and quietly snickering, Romano saw that all three dogs followed him and were looking at him curiously. Blackie whined a little and gave a small bark, but Romano placed his index against his lips and winked.

“Shhh~. Be quiet, si?” and with that Romano went upstairs and noticed that the office door was slightly ajar. Trying not to make a sound and being pleased that the floors were covered with a soft beige carpet so the paws of the following dogs were not heard, gently opening what he already knew to be the office room, and leaned against the doorway looking at Germany that was typing something on the black laptop. Romano more felt then saw the dogs sit down next to him looking into the room at their owner and glancing back at the Italian that they took a liking to. “Wanna fucking smoke? Germany.” The surprised look on Germany’s face brought a cocky smirk on the Italian’s. “Gilbert is sleeping in his room.” Germany took of his glasses and set them on the table, while opening a drawer and took a pack out of it.

“Ja, I suppose we could.” And with that he stood up and followed Romano to the small secret balcony. As soon as the door opened, Romano sat huddled in the chair and all three dogs went to lie around him. Germany took a cigarette and lights it before passing the lighter and the pack to Romano. While smoking in a somewhat amicable silence while the thunder rumbled above them, yet the rain was no that violent anymore. “They like you.” Romano looked down at the lethargic dogs and hummed in response. “Tomorrow they will start the normal schedule for the airplanes.” Another drag and slowly exhaling it.

“Si, I will book a flight to Rome.” Both cigarettes crushed and still they just sat there in silence looking out at the rain. Romano took another and lights it tossing the pack to Germany, and he did the same. The next cigarette was smoked in complete silence, only this time it was not awkward like before, but a somewhat comfortable one. Moments likes this made Romano forget that he was supposed to hate the bulky German next to him, but along this week spent coped up in the same house made Romano think that maybe, just maybe he is not all that bad. Maybe he could allow Feliciano this relationship and maybe even support him.

_But then if he leaves, I will be alone. Feli won’t need me anymore, not that he needs me now._ A long painful sigh escaped along with the inhaled smoke. From the corner of his eyes, Romano noticed Germany looking at him in concern and that made him scowl and click his tongue in annoyance. Crushing the butt in the discarded pack, he popped a piece of gum and handed the last one to Germany. Beckoning the dogs inside, Romano left the secret balcony with Germany still outside. By the time he reached the living room downstairs, Romano was already on the phone with Feliciano and getting the first plane ticket available to Rome. After confirming the flight and time, Romano prepared the suit that he came here in, and tried to somewhat clean the guest room he has been staying in.

“Ksesese This week was fun! You should come visit more with little Feli, ja?” Romano groaned pretty hard at that suggestion much to the Germany’s surprise, felt slightly disappointed.

“Si, come no. Like I do not have a shitload of exposure with you fucking being buddies with the tomato bastard.” Prussia just lounged on the couch more comfortable and laid his legs on Romano’s lap, which were shoved off not a second later. “Besides, I fucking had enough traveling the north. I plan on taking refugee with my precious baby in the south for a while.” The opened book was long forgotten for Germany, and no one in the room noticed that he stopped turning pages a long time ago too.

“Ohh man, again?” Prussia again tried to lift his feet onto Romano’s lap, and Germany had to swallow a small smirk when Romano held his brother’s down with his own.

“Si! And what the fuck you mean again you asshole? Change the fucking channel already!” Prussia snorted and stopped the TV at an American action movie about a superhero dressed in the flag’s colours. Romano took the remote and hid it behind his back watching the screen more attentively.

“But every time you go there, you go missing for like a freaking eternity, and you never let us visit you or something.” Prussia’s feet were free from the Italian’s hold and were on their third attempt to rest on the said Italian’s lap. This time it was Romano’s turn to smirk as both Aster and Berlitz took hold of the Prussian’s pants material and tugged them off. Both dogs were rewarded with a gentle scratch from Romano and this encouraged them to hold guard over Romano’s lap much to Gilbert’s distress.

“Of fucking course freaking albino. That is the point of me going there, to keep away from you assholes.” The raised eyebrow was the only sign that the supposedly reading German was intrigued by the conversation going on near him that is a sign for anyone that might have looked at him.

“But where is there, and calling it a baby, what is the big deal?” was the whine that reflected Germany’s thoughts exactly.

“Home.” Was the cryptic answer and by the smirk, Germany could only guess that Romano was having fun annoying his brother. Another annoying whine that made even Berlitz to bark at Prussia made Romano downright grin at the pouting albino.

“I already figured that it is in the south, but where in the south?”

“I am not giving you the fucking address you asshole. Besides it is my baby because it is actually my home.” The made Germany close the book and setting it on his lap.

“Are you not living in Rome?” Germany could not help but notice the sudden scowl as Romano looked at him. The majority of the nations were actually working and living in their capitols, but then again, nobody shared a country as the Italians brothers do. In addition, their capitol was actually on Romano’s half, hence the name Italia Romano. So the younger brother having a place in Venice was not odd either, for that was the actual heart of the north Italy. Yet Germany knew for a fact that Feliciano called home a grand mansion like house in the city of Milan. Therefore, maybe Romano did not actually live in Rome but somewhere deeper in south.   

“I have a fucking apartment there; I use it for work and stuff. But it is not home for me. Just like fratello doesn’t live in Venice, even if he has a place there too.” Before Germany could give any response to that Prussia sat straight and leaned onto Romano grinning suspiciously.

“Ja, but both me and West and everyone else knows were little Feli lives in Milan. But you, prinzessin, are a mystery.” Well no one was impressed by the Prussian’s words, and it showed in the scowl and one raised eyebrow.

“Why the fuck do you want to know?” before anyone could answer, which Germany noticed his brother wanted to. “No, like seriously. You fucking always are an obnoxious little shit when it comes to my baby.”

“Ksesese because I am curious Lovi~ only Toni and little Feli seem to know where that is. Besides, I have not visited your places in a long while.” Aster and Berlitz pulled him off Romano as he was laying his head on the Italian’s lap. Prussia pouted as Romano was laughing and petting the proud looking dogs. It was odd that the dogs took such an obvious liking the Italian, even if he looked and smelled like his brother. That and the obvious fear Romano was displaying about the canines at the beginning. But as Germany was looking at the amusing scene he suddenly recalled that from his travels to Italy, he visited only Rome and even then only if it was official meetings other than that, only the North half was available to him.

“Like I fucking want you and the other potato at my house.” Prussia picked himself up from the floor and sat on the couch.

“But we had fun, right?”

“Si! Fucking best week of my fucking entire life, you asshole.” This time it was Romano occupying more than half of the couch.

“Ksesese~~ bullshit! It was fucking awesome and you know it.” And with that the conversation died as they were watching the loud explosions and exaggerated fighting scenes on the TV screen and Germany returned to his book. After the movie, Romano got up and declared bedtime.

            _Home sweet home… here I fucking come~_ something along the lines were the first thoughts of a barely awake Italian. Romano got up from the bed and went into the shower to get ready for the flight back home. While already making plans on how to deal with everyone in Rome and to disappear to his sweet, wonderful baby for a few months. Getting dressed in the suit and arranging his hair at the best of his abilities without straightening it as usual and using a shitload of hair products, Romano felt the wonderful smell of coffee, which made him go to the kitchen. Both Germany and Prussia were already up and dressed when he got there.

“Guten Morgen prinzessin ksesese~!” the replay was a swift head slap that made the Prussian spill a little bit of coffee on the table much to Germany’s annoyance.

“Good morning Romano.” Was another greeting that Romano deigned to just grunt in response to and commence inhaling the strong coffee and the pie in front of him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed a not so small box on the table. “Ja, I took the liberty of baking a chocolate cake. I was hoping you would accept it.” Romano raised an eyebrow and just shrugged, over the week he got used to the idea that Germany’s pastries were amazing, and if he can mooch of the potato then so be it. After a good half an hour later, which consisted of tackles and over all playful behavior between the Italian and the three dogs, both the German brothers and Romano were in the car on their way to the airport. A few handshakes later, Romano was on the plane flying towards Rome, knowing that both Antonio and Feliciano will meet him at the airport. Finally, he could relax, and with that closing his eyes and popping the earphones in his ears and turning the volume of the phone, Romano was ready to take a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) please leave some review and I hope to see you next Monday~


	12. Home is where Family is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday another chapter :3 please enjoy this one too and do not forget to give feedback and suggestions :3

XII

“ Home is where Family is ”

            “Benvenuti in Italia~! Vee~~” the tired Italian did not know what for to smack the other first.

“Idiota! This is my home too.” Romano reached his arm to smack the gleefully smiling twin but instead embraced him to his chest and kissed the crown of his head. “Chigi~ I fucking missed you fratellino.” A gentle and adorable _vee~~_ was barely heard and the two squeezing arms relaxed and both brothers shared a warm embrace in the middle of the overcrowded and busy Fiumicino airport.

“Fusososo~ que lindo~” Romano groaned and kissed Feliciano under his ear lovingly and turned to look at the smiling Spaniard. Feliciano feeling the opportunity to stay leeched to his brother’s side was still half-clinging to his waist smiling lovingly at the scowling twin. “Abrazar Lovinito?” dragging the still glued twin, Lovino molded to the warm yet strong chest of the smiling Spaniard. He knew that if he will not conform to Antonio’s wishes for the few days that he will be here in order to make sure that Lovino is all right, then the world might wake up with a second Spanish Empire on their behinds. Also, the older Italian secretly enjoyed the attention, and the strong arms enveloping him reminded him too much of his childhood, of the smell of warm chocolate where you could dip freshly baked churros covered in cinnamon. That is the scent of Lovino’s childhood; Spain is Lovino’s home as Italy is the home to his people and Romano himself.

“Now if you would fucking stop smothering me, we can go home already. I am fucking hungry and tired plus I smell of nasty potatoes.” So it came to no surprise to Lovino when those _fucking assholes_ just squeezed him tighter and laughed in his ears. Getting in the car, Lovino was pulled by Antonio onto the backseats and made the Italian lean onto the strong chest again, occasionally kissing his cheeks and hair. “How long are you staying over bastard?” a heavy sight and a slightly tighter squeeze, informed the Italian that not as long as the other would like to.

“I have a plane in the evening Lovi~. Lo siento. But I promise to visit soon enough, si?” the smothered Italian just shrugged and relaxed into the hold snuggling closer ready to take a nap.

“Do not bother. I am going to Naples soon enough anyway.” The sudden halt sent both nations forward and the honks indicated the displeasure of the cars behind them. “Che cazzo! Feliciano, you are fucking worse than I am!” the car smoothly started to move again but the driver was pouting stubbornly.

“So the South feels like farming?” Antonio left out a grunt as soon as Lovino’s elbow made a brutal and sharp contact with his stomach.

“No! The south feels like resting from all the stupidity surrounding him.”

“But fratello~ we have meetings and a lot of work to do in Rome and around the world vee~~!” the whine was hinting towards some kind of annoyance.

“Do you want to eat or not fratello? I fucking feed your gluttonous stomach and you have the fucking nerve to complain?!” the older Italian was beyond irritated. And the whining that came from the front was not helping. “Chigi~ when was the fucking last time you got your hands dirty with Italian soil?” Feliciano let out a yelp when his fuming brother kicked the seat.

“Fusosososo~~~ Fusosososo~~” Lovino let out an irritated groan and Feliciano started to giggle as the Spaniard was doing the cheer up charm.

“I am surrounded by fucking idiots! Stop it!” of course that only made the Spaniard do it more intensely “I said fucking stop it you asshole! I am calm!” by the screaming Lovino was doing it was clear that he was anything but calm, only Antonio knew the limits and with a grin embraced the red faced Italian.

“Si, Feliciano let him go. There is nothing wrong with farming and I am sure you can handle all the meetings.” The pout directed to them threw the rear-view mirror, obviously meant that the meetings and such had nothing to do with the fact that Feliciano did not want for his brother to go to Naples.

“Spit it out you little shit.” and the driver seat got another kick.

“Vee~~ It is just when Lovi goes to…”

“It is fucking Lovino you asshole! Use it properly.”

“It is just when _Lovino~_ goes to Naples vee~~ he tends to forget that he has family.” Antonio had the nerve to chuckle as the older Italian raised an eyebrow looking directly in his brother’s eyes throw the rear-view mirror.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?!” the South was getting more and more angry by every word that left Feliciano’s still pouting mouth.

“Vee~~ you never call because your phone barely has any signal and you do not even have internet there!” Lovino let out a frustrated groan, hiding his face between Antonio’s shoulder and jaw. “Vee~~ and you are gone for months too fratello!” Antonio felt the Italian stiffen and was already rubbing soothing circles on his back, but refused to take part in the building fight.

“Gone for fucking months?! What, you suddenly feel lonely fratellino? You suddenly remember family?” Antonio cringed knowing already where it will lead.

“Si! Vee~~ I feel lonely, because family sticks together fratellone caro!”

“Chigi! You have the fucking nerve! What about you going to your freaking boyfriend’s place? Huh?” Romano slapped Antonio’s hand out the way and leaned towards the front. “What about me then? When I am all fucking alone even for holidays? You did not think about that did you?” Feliciano opened his mouth to retaliate but then stopped and bit his lower lip tightening his hold on the steering wheel.

“Ludwig is not my boyfriend.” Feliciano could do nothing more but mumble. The driver’s seat was kicked again in anger, this time the north cringed like a slap was delivered directly to his face.

“Your fucking fuck buddy. Same fucking shit.” With a huff, Lovino leaned against the Spaniard again this time snuggling to his chest hiding the flushed face and the unshed tears that gleamed in his eyes. Antonio could do nothing more but quietly hold him and resuming rubbing soothing circles on his back and gently kissing his ruffled hair. The drive to the apartment was quiet from then on. As soon as the car stopped, Lovino shot out the car, but not before grabbing, the medium sized box and slammed the door, rushing upstairs into his apartment. Putting the box on the table and discarding his shoes at the same time, Lovino rushed to the bathroom ready to throw away the clothes and take a hot soaking bath. While filling the tub, he faintly heard the front door opening and closing but chose to ignore it.

_Ahh~ feels good… feels so fucking amazing…_ slowly the naked body of the south Italy was submerging in the hot scented water filled with bubbles. A long satisfied sigh left his red plump lips and Lovino closed his eyes relaxing entirely in the water. Soon after the houses started to smell of delicious Bolognese sauce that brought a small smile onto the Italians face. Opening his eyes, he was met with two shining emerald ones staring at him over the rim of the bathtub.

“Chigi~~!!” the sudden scream and the curling of the naked Italian on the other side of the tub looking frightened at the intruder left the Spaniard laughing on the floor. “Che cazzo! You fucking bastard you want my fucking death?!” to say that Antonio was left dry would be downright lying.

“Che!?” a frantic Feliciano burst into the bathroom looking around with wide eyes at the still huddled Lovino and the laughing but wet Spaniard. “What happened here? Vee~~”

“This fucking idiot scared me half to death with his creepy starring!” Feliciano _Ohhed~_ and then beamed happily.

“Lunch is almost ready vee~~.” But still stayed there looking at Lovino along with Antonio.

“Get the fuck out you creepers!” the said Italian was red with embarrassment and pouting at the intruders. Both just giggled and left the bathroom, knowing that Lovino would follow soon enough. _Idiots, the lot of them…_ and with that, Lovino washed all the soap off of him, and got out the tub not bothering to cover himself anymore and just generally not caring at all. Putting on some jeans on with no shirt, and ruffling his already drying hair with a towel not bothering grooming it so some curls were already formed giving him a soft childish feel. Taking a seat at the already arranged table, Lovino could do nothing but pout when both Antonio and Feliciano gently touched his curls. While the Italian brothers could be called twins on their good days, it was clear that both were as different as they were similar. While Feliciano shared more fair blood, like that of Germans, French and basically the people of the north, Lovino shared blood much darker and ancient coming from the very south of Mother Earth. Because of this not only was his attitude harsher and more fiery, but the skin was a tone darker and the eyes were more expressive, and while both Italian brothers straightened their hair on daily basis, Feliciano’s was lighter and wavy, while Lovino’s was dark and downright curly. From a very young age, Lovino hated his hair, yet noticed that both Antonio and his younger brother seemed to adore it, playing with curled locks every time they got the chance. Sweating their intruding hands away, he indulged himself in the heavy pasta Bolognese and a nice glass of his own wine. “I do not fucking know how about you, but I am taking a fucking siesta after this.”

“Ohhh me too fratello! Vee~~ we can take one together si?” both Italians looked at each other then at the eating Spaniard. This in turn made him blink at them, blush and swallow hard the food down his throat.

“S-si that would be nice fusososo~ only if Lovi~ will be in the middle.” Lovino could do nothing more but roll his eyes when the younger was nodding eagerly. After another hour or two, they finished eating and Lovino got up to clean the table and start to wash the dishes before the siesta. Suddenly the plates were taking from his hands and he felt himself being seated back at the table. With a raised eyebrow, silently he inquired the happenings. “You are tired from the road mi tomate. Por favor relax while we take care of everything.” Shooting the somewhat intimidating look towards Feliciano, Lovino expected stuttering and a white flag fluttering in his face. What Lovino did not expect a beaming smile, a new filled glass of wine and a somewhat relaxing massage to his shoulders.

“You do realize that all this shit will not fucking stop me from going to Naples, right?” while the massage did not even flatter and Antonio just hummed in response, somewhat scared the older Italian a little. _What the fuck are they planning?_

“Of course not fratello. Vee~~ A farming south Italia is a prosperous Italia, si?“ the smooch on the cheek was welcomed but only internally.

“Why the fucking change of heart?” titling the head backwards, Lovino looked at Feliciano almost upside down. “Some time ago you were ready to fucking gauge my eyes out.” A pout was expected, but Lovino received a small glare in return.

“Not gauge your eyes out fratello. They are too pretty for that. Vee~~” If Lovino would raise an eyebrow again, he was sure it would fly off. “Si, I am upset but only because I will miss you.”

“No you will not and you fucking know it.” Was the flat response that even made Antonio turn and look at the brothers.

“Vee~~ what do you mean Lovi?” the massage stopped but the hand was still resting warmly on Lovino’s shoulders.

“The moment I am fucking out you will run straight into that potato fucker’s arms and I will be out of your mind in a fucking second flat.” Lovino noticed that slowly all the emotions from Feliciano’s face disappeared and the hands were slightly trembling. At the same time Lovino was looking in fascination at the changes in his brother’s attitude, but when the other looked down and was starting to bite his lower lip, the older Italian just simply turned his upper body to Feliciano.

“Scuzi fratellone. Vee~~” it was mumbled so quietly that Lovino thought he misheard it.

“Che?”

“Scuzi, per favore scuzi vee~~” the voice was broke and starined and a small hiccup left the already trembling body. With a sigh, Lovino took the younger in his arms and sat him on his lap.

“Shh~ si. Do not listen to me. Per favore do not cry.” The younger pushed at him gently looking into his eyes, both ignoring the fact that the water was turned off and Antonio was looking at them with a small smile.

“No fratello. I am sorry for all the time I ignored you, vee~~ I did not mean to.” Lovino brushed away a few tears and kisses Feliciano on the corner of his mouth and touching his forehead on his.

“Si I know, I am just bitter, si. It is not your fault at all.” Feliciano hugged him and kissed him underneath his ear.

“I promise that I will try to spend more time with you.” Straightening and looking into Lovino’s bright hazel eyes.” Vee~~ that is why, per favore allow me to visit you in Naples.” The chuckle that was let out by the older Italian made the younger just pout childishly.

“You fucking hate it there.”

“No! I just do not like farming vee~~, but I can just paint or something vee~~ or cook for you and clean the house vee~~…” a hand stopped his blabbering.

“Va bene. If you suddenly want to you can come visit me, capishe?” the cheer and the hug just made Lovino smile and hug back but not before meeting eyes with Antonio and seeing a proud look that made him blush and hide his face into the crook of Feliciano’s shoulder. “That is it! Get the fuck of me you little creep.”

“Noo~~ Lovi’s skin is smooth and smells nice~ vee~~ big brother Toni come and feel it~” when the Spaniard made a move to get closer, Lovino started to flail about, regretting the choice of not getting a shirt on.

“Get the fuck away you creepers! Do not touch me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave feedback and suggestions :3 see you next Monday~!


	13. Simple little things in the South

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that I am posting this two days later then the norm :( but I started work and I do not have that much time so I am thinking of posting once in about two weeks from now on, or at least as I will get ahead with written chapters for about a month in advance... Please enjoy reading and reviewing :3

XIII

“ Simple little things in the South ”

            After driving Antonio to the airport and getting to sleep in a familiar environment and the warmth of his brother next to him, Lovino woke up early in the morning refreshed and in a good mood. All-out through the day, the South practically danced his way around the house and lazed about to his content and the amusement of his brother. If the plans were to set off to Naples immediately as Antonio would leave, just to please the younger Italian, that Lovino noticed was working, he figured that staying home and doing some paperwork might be a good idea. Although as two weeks have passed buried in paperwork and being fed by his younger brother that constantly tried to please him and care for him as never before. To say that Lovino did not like it, it would be a huge lie, although it made him quiet confused that Feliciano did not break his promise and run to Germany. Even if at the table the talks turned to the potato, it was mostly to tell and re-tell the story of Lovino’s staying there. It please Lovino immensely, that for once in their long lives, Feliciano seemed to care for him and that he would keep a promise made to his older brother. However, as the month was coming to an end, the harvesting season was almost there, and Lovino was becoming more restless and Feliciano was noticing that his temper was flaring up more often than not. So as Friday approached, Lovino with the help of his brother was packing his things in a truck. And with promises to call as often as the Southerner will feel needed to and to let Feliciano visit if the latter feels like it. Many kisses, hugs and tears from the younger, Lovino finally got behind the wheel and took off to his beloved and precious “baby”.

            After a 3 hours drive with occasional stops here and there for coffee and some cakes, Lovino finally reached Naples, although passing right through the centre of his city, he continued to drive because his precious gem was outside the city itself, and more closer to the grand Vesuvius. A small village at the outskirts of the park, remote and not known by many, if actually only the insiders. For about another hour drive for the paved roads gave into rough unused terrains, driving through the village where houses were far apart from each other, divided by a vast terrain of plantations and other harvesting goodies. A feeling of high pressure suddenly invaded the driving nations, as he elevated on higher altitudes, many would think that volcanic terrain is drained of any chance to harvest anything at all. But not this one, no, this was worked on even in his Grandfather’s days of glory and reigned. Times when the Roman Empire did not even imagine having descendants one day. After greeting some farmers along the way and chatting with them, Lovino finally felt calm and at peace. Even if the humans did not know about their nation representatives, it seemed like they felt that their young neighbor that was farming on the villa higher above all and at the end of the village is Romano, that he is Vesuvius itself. They did not ask questions why for hundreds of years he is still here, is still Lovino Romano Vargas, and is still young as ever. Why their great-grand parents know him as an old friend of their own ancestors. They just respected him, took care of the villa in his absence and continued to be friendly and familiar with him. A small rare smile stretched on Lovino’s lips as hi opened the window and inhaled the wild smells of nature. Taking a turn to the left, Lovino saw a wooden bridge over a stream that by own experience knew that it was deeper than it seemed and very, very cold. Passing over it he spied a fence made out of red bricks, and that it had fallen in some parts, that was the border of his property that was as vast as the horizon.

_I’ll have to fix that mother fucker and keep the nastiness of the property… shit…_

Finally reaching a nice metal gate he stopped the car and rushed to open them, keeping them still with a piece of metal bolt stuck in the rich soil, Lovino parked the car inside the property under a wooden raft, made by his own two hands for his trusty truck, to protect it from rain and other stuff. Getting out he put his hand on his hips and looked around, _Home sweet home… shit I have a lot of work here…damnit the apple tree is dead… fuck…_ with a shrug he went to open the front door to his “baby”. The so called “baby” was a villa in typical Mediterranean style with stoned path towards the front door which was a deep red colour. The front was decorated with different potted plants and actual trees, Lovino made sure that all of it bloomed at some point or actually would bear some kind of fruit and usefulness in the kitchen. The villa was two stories and the roof level was decorated and livable. For wall the worth that Feliciano was complaining, the place was absolutely gorgeous and well furnished as a self respected Italian household. Yes, it lacked TV cable and internet connections, and the cell phone sometimes was not in range but whom needs those when you have all this surrounding you. The walls were made out of yellowish stones and the roof a deep red colour, some arches here and there and huge windows to allow the sun inside. Opening the door, Lovino was met with a dust and the specific smell of closed spaces, with a sigh he proceeded to open a few windows and go upstairs, where all the bedrooms, the library, and the office were located. Already making plans on where to start the cleaning, Lovino opened the door to the master bedroom. Dust was on every surface, but nothing that could not be cleaned in a few days, and Lovino planned to stay a long time here. Are full not to disturb too much of the dust around, the southerner took off the white covers off the bed reveling it bare of any sheets. Opening the French doors to the balcony, Lovino stopped to gaze at Vesuvius and the barely visible remains of the great Pompeii that hides secrets lost even to him. _I should visit it again..._ with that, Lovino turned around, walked to a hidden door, and took out some bed lingerie carefully packed in bags to keep them from dust. Making the bed and feeling satisfied that when the time will come. He can just collapse from sheer exhaustion at the end of the day, or in the dead of the night. Carrying various boxes filled with things that will ensure survival over the time Lovino plans spending here, some of them went to the kitchen filling the old fridge that was turned on by the older Italian and started to work after a few good placed kicks. But most of them went straight to the underground cellar that was even more vast then the house itself and went about two stories deep. Setting the things in their right place, changing into some faded off and ripped jeans with an off white cotton shirt, Lovino set to clean the house, starting with the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, the most important three rooms to finish cleaning today. After dusting and washing the drapes and a few bed sheets, a sudden noise brought to Lovino’s attention that his phone was blasting Raphael Gualazzi. Grabbing it and running towards the roof’s balcony he saw that it was Feliciano calling. _Shit… I forgot to call him…_

“Pronto!”

“Fratelloo~~~ vee~~!” the whine was displeased but teasing which calmed Lovino a little.

“Si, scuzi fratellino I forgot to call.”

“Si~ I understand, the house has to be filthy, si?”  the giggle both infuriated Lovino and calmed him even more, so it came to no surprise that he leaned on the rail and took a cigarette from the pack that was in his pocket and lit it up.

“Si, you have no fucking idea and it is your fault!” inhaling the nicotine softly and slowly he exhaled it.

“How sooo Lovi~~?”

“You kept me from coming here all this time.” The background honks and Italian exclamations indicated that Feliciano was indeed still in Italy, maybe Rome or even Milano. A small smile that Feliciano did not run to Germany as soon as Lovino set off warmed his heart. “Did you eat anything yet?” Lovino knew the answer but it still made him ask just to make sure.

“Sii~ vee~~ what about you?” crushing the cigarette butt, he cringed.

“Not yet, just a few pieces here and there. I still have to clean the kitchen.”

“Va bene fratello~ I won’t keep you long, go clean faster so you can eat something delicious, si? Vee~~” with a chuckle they bid their goodbyes and Lovino left to finish the bedroom and start on the kitchen. While the food will cook, he can finish the bathroom; take a shower and go to sleep, for tomorrow is a busy day.

            When Lovino finished all the cleaning, ate a very late dinner and washed the grim off himself, it was already past two in the morning. Sleeping like the dead all throughout the night, it came as no surprise when morning happened so suddenly and was not quiet welcome. But as a distant rooster started to announce the coming of the dawn, Lovino woke up and was ready for a cup of coffee and some toast with homemade jam over it. Popping some bones in place and putting on some boxers on and a long cotton shirt, Lovino went downstairs ruffling his curly hair that was in disarray resembling an explosion of a macaroni industry. But here Lovino could be himself, here he could be Lovino Romano Vargas, a young farmer that had human contact only when he felt like driving to the village. Getting his things, he went to the central courtyard that was surrounded by the halls and the sunroom of the house itself. It was filled with flowers and nice benches to sit or lay around on sunny days. The centre was cleaned of flowers however, Lovino meant to build a fountain of sorts, but never got around it. Now that he sat and was enjoying the coffee while looking at the designed place for the fountain, he remembered the fallen bricks from the fence, but that was for later. Today, the Italian was to clean the entire house so he can start to weed the garden, then the plantation. Although it was not as bad as it could be, he should thank the people from the village for tending to his precious baby in his absence. Downing the cup, Lovino rose to prepare for the day ahead. Getting dressed in the same old clothing as yesterday, he started from the upper levels and slowly throughout the day went down, having small snack breaks to wolf down a few sandwiches. Night came again and Lovino was sitting down on a high stool with his feet off the wet, obviously recently washed floor, and was enjoying a plate of pasta with tuna and tomatoes. Looking around he was proud to say that finally the house is clean, even Antonio would be surprised how efficient was Lovino in taking care of his baby and only his baby. Looking at the clock hanging above the kitchen doorway, the Italian saw that it was almost midnight, but seeing as the floor was slowly drying he had to stay still a little longer. Deciding against it he tiptoed to the sink, careful not to make a mess and not to slip and fall, he washed the plate and the fork. Putting it aside to dry, carefully jumping onto dry patches he rushed to the second floor and took a long hot shower washing all the grim and knots off his exhausted body. After being done, Lovino dried himself up and jumped in the bed stark naked and rolled around the newly washed sheets feeling right at home. Even if his body ached from all the work, it was a good kind of ache, and looking out the open window towards the starry sky above the mighty volcano, slowly he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you :3 I will post the next chapter as soon as I finish it in about 2 weeks on Sunday evening or Monday morning depending on my work schedule... Thank you~!


	14. Secret intercepted by the cold North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I have been productive this week! here is another chapter right on time~ I promise that I will try my best to keep updating every Monday despite what I said in last chapter's note. Enjoy this chapter~

XIV

“ Secret intercepted by the cold North ”

            The next two days are spent thinking and remising in his trusty worn-out jeans and an off wash once cotton baggy shirt and Lovino rips every non-edible plant out of that very large walled garden behind the house. It is a beautiful day outside, with the southern sun shining strongly from the morning to dusk. But working in the fields is hot and sweaty work, so at times, Lovino casts off the shirt, daring the old sun to just try and burn him after centuries of the same dance. Lovino is so engrossed in his work that he does not even mind or notices the occasional nick or scratch of something biting his fingers, arms or naked chest, because the fertile black soil filled with minerals under all the nasty weeds and vines is what he is actually after. He is disturbed by Feliciano’s phone calls only, to check on him and update him to world matter; everyone in Rome and other major cities knows to leave South Italy alone when he is Naples. And it is not the fear of his famed temper, it is just common sense in the general agriculture area. If South Italy is farming, let him farm to his content and the entire Italy will prosper. The tedium of bundling plant stalks and the grunt labour of mixing fertilizers all keep him from getting to worked up about stupid World Meetings and German pests bothering his fratellino and him too indirectly, or worried ex conquistadors trying to call him when he is out in the fields or too tired to speak to anyone. After a few days of tending to the vegetable garden, with the help of a few village farmers he took care of the vast Vineyard that stretched to the horizon and beyond. Upon a few days in the tending and realizing the damage induced by weather and a little neglect, Lovino entirely lost sense of time, place and other people other than the helpers from the village. It could have been a few days, weeks or even a month, South Italy reached the end of the Vineyard making spectaculars progress in salvaging this year’s wine production. That evening Lovino with the farmers were in the little town’s trattoria celebrating the event with good homemade food and good strong Grappa. The last thing Lovino remembered a long curly haired beauty upon his knees giggling in his ear and laughter all around him.

_Shit… I forgot to close the drapes again…_ with that the body stilled for a few seconds and slowly opened his eyes looking around. _How the fuck I got here… cannot remember… shit!_ Lovino was back in his room, with his clothing on, on the unmade bed after a night of heavy drinking. While the pounding in his head intensified, Lovino decided that today he will rest and cure his hangover. The days passed in a lazy fashion, the only work Lovino did do, was cooking, showering and take repeated siestas. One day Lovino stumbled upon his cell phone forgotten somewhere in the house from his last talk with Feliciano. The phone was dead, finding the charger in his suitcase he plugged the device to it and left it to charge. After a few hours, Lovino turned it on and was ambushed with calls, messages and even panicked voice messages from his fratellino and slightly calmer greeting from Antonio requesting a call as soon as Lovino remembers civilization. With a sigh, his first choice was calling Antonio, just to spare the world and himself of a lunatic ex-conquistador.

“Holla Lovi~!” with a sigh Lovino prepared to list excuses after excuses to his ex-caretaker.

“Cioa bastard. Scuzi I just heard the messages.”

“It is ok Lovinito, I know how it gets when you neglect for a while the fields. Everything fixed already?” was the cheery response that calmed the Italian a lot.

“Mostly si, it took a lot for the tomatoes and the grapes.”

“Ah si, si~ well per favore remember to call more often now that the hard work is finished, si?”

“S’not finished you jerk! I still got shitload of stuff to prune and fix, and only then I get to tend to them until harvest season.” The laughter from the other side of the line was warm that put a small smile onto Lovino’s face, not the other could ever tell.

“Of course of course mi tomate~ I will not bother you too often, but per favore call me sometimes too, si?” after a sigh and a verbal agreement they told their goodbyes and Lovino was left with the harder part of getting in touch with his family, Feliciano Veneziano Vargas. Going by the tearful, enraged, worried and panicking messages it is a wonder that he did not come straight to Naples in search for Lovino. After dialing the number Lovino waited for the other to pick up.

“Fratello~!! Vee~” cringing from the sheer volume of his brother’s voice, Lovino cleaned his throat before answering.

“Ciao Feli, I got umm your messages.” _Well that came out fucking awkward…_

“Lovi~~” came the expected whine, “I called you so many times too, and you did not answer, and then it would go to voice mail and then it said the phone was not in range or disconnected~ vee~~” all the while Lovino was nodding and letting the younger one vent.

“Si, the battery died and I just remembered about it today, scuzi.”

“I even called Big Brother Spain and France and even Germany asking if they knew something vee~~” closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose Lovino exhaled slowly.

“I understand Antonio but how the fuck would those two other assholes knows shit about me Feliciano?”

“Vee~~ well big brother France cares about us and Germany knows everything vee~~” shaking his head Lovino rolled his eyes.

“Bene, bene, I am good just got occupied by the fields lots of fucking work and shit. I am good Feli if something might have happened you would have fucking felt it so stop worrying si?” the negative whine that followed somewhat warmed Lovino’s heart even if it was extremely annoying.

“Lovii~~ can I ask you something? Vee~~” Lovino’s eyebrow went flying over his hairline; usually Feli blurted anything crossing his thoughts not asking for permission.

“Shoot.” Was the plain response, and Lovino leaned against a wall to get more comfortable.

“Promise not to get mad vee~~?” a sigh and preparing for anything that Feli could come up with the grunted an affirmative answer. “Can Germany visit? Vee~~” the grimace that Lovino made was awful and he was ready to shoot a big loud ~ _NO!~_ but then he remembered the way Germany offered his home and protection despite whatever Lovino did to him. So greeting his teeth slowly exhaled to calm down. Besides that means that Feliciano actually stayed home as he promised which was a big plus sign for Lovino.

“Isn’t he fucking always visiting you anyway, without my permission? Or are you still in Rome?”

“Vee~~ si I am in Rome~ but Germany visited only my half and I thought that now, you know, could see a few sites here in the South?” the voice was hesitant yet filled with shining hope.

“Will you be his fucking tour guide?” both of them were one Italy, but their parts were different, and Feliciano could get lost on his own part easily and South was more complicated too.

“Well I will show him Rome and a few towns around vee~~ I have a few meetings up in the North and to report to Rome~ so he will travel a little alone, besides he took a vacation of sorts.” Only Feliciano could give lengthy explanations to simple questions.

“Whatever I don’t give a shit but if he fucking gets in trouble I won’t help got it?” making sure Feliciano understood they talked a little more about the news from both sides of Italy. After hanging up, Lovino decided that taking a walk around the wild part of the property might benefit him to make another list of what needs to be done after the pruning of the trees. About two weeks passed and Lovino almost dealt with everything gin the near vicinity, so it was time to get to prune the trees. It was not that Lovino was afraid of heights, but after a few falls he started to dislike the job, that and dealing with wild twigs that are ready to gauge your eyes out is not a fun experience. Well starting from the back of the villa and going towards the gate was quiet a slow process. After a few more days moving through the fruit groove, he reached the few apple trees almost too close to the brick wall near the gate, even its branches was overlooking the dirt road that bypassed his property. This days Lovino spent more of his time moving ladders from one tree to another so when he finally reached that one apple tree to mark the entrance he was extremely overjoyed. To reach the traitorous branches that grew over the road, he had to move the ladder to the other side meaning he had to go lean it against the outer wall. So when Lovino is in middle of reaching a little bit too far is the exact moment when he feels the ladder suddenly coming free and begin to fall, his world slowing right down as the vertigo of an impending plummet catches him like a net. The sheers fall from his hand and land some space away from him _Grazie a Dio~_.

“Mein Gott!” a voice broke through his thoughts of pain, well at least he landed on grass. “Romano?” a sudden rush coming to his mind, that old apple tree, that is what he fell out from, and Lovino was grateful to all Gods that the fall was not too high up, because one moment he is flying and the other he is on his back on grass and everything _fucking hurts_! His head is pounding from the impact and his chest is weak and sore, and the fact that his left leg slipped through the metal rungs just _fucking hurts like a motherfucker!_

“Romano!”  _The fuck?_  “Gott! Romano, are you ok?” _Who the fuck…?_ “Romano you hear me?”

Lovino opens his eyes under the blinding sunlight, and there are hand touching his sweaty face and pushing back his dark curls, but then he feels them touching his sides and legs and back to his arms, running over his body in a way that should be worried and not at all suggestive, but to Lovino’s foggy mind it is. The person even has a hand resting right on his upper thigh as he works the ladder free and shoves the beaten and ruined metal away with a loud clatter as it met with the lost sheers. His left knee hurts, but that along with the forming bruise will go away, yet the hand that slides to the burning bruise help him straighten the limb out stay right where it is. Suddenly the sun goes behind some clouds and Lovino can see a head with blond hair that obviously was once slicked back, but now it was everywhere and the face that bore two cold blue eyes were looking at him in concern and surprise. The Italian suddenly jerks upright as if he could escape the vision. Germany’s hands fly to his shoulders as soon as he is sitting. Germany’s glistening skin was so pale against the green leaves and the gold but merciless sunlight of the South that he looks sort of like a dream or a vision.

“Not so fast Romano, you should not get up yet. Does your head hurt?”

“I am little dizzy…” and not just from the fall either.

“Then lay down please.”

“Shut the fuck up, you are over-reacting.” was the irritated bark.

“I just saw you fall about 3 meters height, Romano. I am not over-reacting.” Those word were said with a precision characteristic to Germany, yet somewhat laded with worry, and Lovino could not get them out his head. And suddenly Lovino’s head is not hanging because of the fall, but because somehow his tan is still not dark enough to cover the blush that spread over his cheeks like ranging fire.

“What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to tour the towns around Rome?” it is better than to point out the fact that Germany is still cradling him and looking worried for him, a scene only familiar on Antonio’s, Feliciano’s and sometimes Francis’s face and not Germany. So when Germany pushes him gently to lay down on the grass, he is not resisting, yet the glare still remains strong on his burning face. Crouching next to him is the shape of a huge burly man, dressed in khaki shorts, grey snickers a plain black t-shirt and a backpack over his shoulders, typical tourist attire. And this is the moment that Lovino remembers that he discarded his shirt after tending to the lemon tree near the centre of his inner yard.

“Veneziano is busy and I wanted to see Pompeii. But the rented car broke down a few kilometers from here.” Germany looks at him as if waiting for some kind of outburst, but Lovino just sighs and pushes his upper body up and leans against his elbows.

“Well congrats you fucking potato you found my secret home that only two other people know about.” At this Germany had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “You gonna help a fucker up, or what?” the blonde-haired person gently yet firmly took hold of his elbows and helped the still dizzy Italian up, supporting his weigh with apparent ease. Pointing at a bottle of water at the base of the tree, Germany rushed to get it and handed it to the swaying Italian. Running his hand through the unruly curls surprisingly not caring that Germany sees him like this, Lovino gestures to the opened gate. “Let’s go inside, it is too hot out here.” And with that turning around the Italian limped his way towards the house being closely followed by a curious German trying to look at everything but at the same time not lose the Italian from his sight. In front of the house itself, it seems that curiosity won and the German was openly starring at the building in pure wonder and astonishment not unlike a puppy seeing a pool for the first time. A chuckle from Lovino made the Germany blush and look down.

“It is beautiful Romano.”

“It is fucking gorgeous and a piece of fucking art, got that … Germany?” surprise and then a small grateful smile stretched on the usual strict face made Lovino blush again as he rushed inside with a good placed cursed at the following German.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and comment your thoughts and ideas because they are very much welcome ~~!!


	15. A Knight in the Burning Pompeii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update but my work is taking all the time even on weekends :( I promise I will end this story because I really want to see how it will turn out myself ;) Please enjoy~~!

XV

“ A Knight in the Burning Pompeii ”

            Settling the German in a guest room and showing him around the house and the immediate perimeter afterwards, Lovino ushered him to the bathroom to wash himself while the Italian went to start the lasagna that he craved for tonight’s dinner. While chopping the vegetables and soaking the lasagna files in milky cream, Lovino called Feliciano to inform him that _I fucking found your stupid macho potato and no I am not fucking heartless so gave him a room and I will feed him delicious southerner food! Si I am this damned amazing and kind, stai zitto!_ Hanging up, he put the lasagna in the oven and turned around to go to the cellar to fetch a good bottle of homemade wine.

“Fucking shit!” Germany just entered the kitchen the moment Lovino turned around and that scared the Italian immensely.

“Oh, I am sorry Romano.” Although apologizing, Germany was amused how jumpy the Italian seemed to be, much more than his brother that is for sure. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“You fucker, you almost gave me a heart attack. I am not fucking used to little shits like you in this house.” Germany looked even more curious at the Italian still clutching his heart and leaning against the counter.

“Why, Veneziano or Spain does not visit you here?” Romano shrugged and continued to walk towards a wooden door next to the kitchen in the hall mentioning for Germany to follow.

“No, not really. Spain has to deal with his own harvesting seasons and Feli does not really like it here. One for being in the middle of nowhere apparently. Two because it does not have city like conditions for him.” With that, Lovino turned on the din lights in the room not paying attention to the curious German behind him looking around him in wonder. The lights revealed some stone stairs leading down to what appeared quiet a big space under the villa itself. Going down the stairs, the space turned out to be a real wine cellar that Germany only saw in wine making magazines and old Mediterranean movies. There were huge wooden barrels and racks upon racks filled with wine bottles. Some dusty some new. In a corner, there were racks with bottles that clearly were not wine, but maybe something much stronger. Germany was amazed.

“Are these yours, Romano?”  he noticed that the Italian was giving him an incredulous face with one eyebrow up.

“No, they all just appeared here out of nowhere~.” The sarcasm was so heavy that Germany felt the need to flinch even. “What the actual fuck do you think? Of course they belong to me.” Rolling his eyes, the Italian went to inspect some barrels, and upon deciding which one is better started to fill an empty glass bottle from a shelf.

“N-no, I meant if you made all this.” A heavy sigh was the indication that Lovino again thought that it was quiet a stupid question.

“Si, I made all of this from the vineyard behind the villa, plus some other bottles from other regions that I have vineyards, and no, sometimes I had help from Feli and Antonio, even France.” Well Lovino answered Germany’s unasked questions so the latter just kept looking around without touching anything. Grabbing the filled bottle, Lovino poked Germany on the shoulder. “Let’s go, I will show you the cellars later, bene?” with that the German followed the Italian out becoming excited at the prospect of more than one of this seemingly secret spaces around the villa’s territory. After the quiet late dinner at which Lovino promised to tour Germany around Pompeii for a price and that being the German’s help around the villa for the duration of his stay. To which the German agreed whole-heartedly much to Romano’s surprise.

            The next day from the very morning both the Italian and the German were in the old beaten up truck driving to Pompeii, gardening for now forgotten as Romano intended to show Germany the great town as only its nation could. He was but only a child when the tragedy befell upon them, and by Gods, how he wept. Taking a turn, Romano parked the car and motioned for the German to follow.

“We are going to walk there.” The German gave him a nod while looking around with a small smile.

“Danke schon Romano. I have always wanted to visit your part of Italy, and this opportunity means a lot for me.” Romano shrugged turning around trying to hide his flushed face, only it was slightly too late for the German noticed and smirked a little. The time spent with the older Italian gave a small insight to Ludwig that for all the cold and harsh exterior, Romano was very shy and surprisingly hard working by what Ludwig could only guess was a southerner standards, messy but efficient. And all the blushing that Romano tried very hard to hide went noticed by the bigger nation and for some reason, Germany liked the awkwardness around the Italian and the flushed cheeks looked too adorable to him to let every opportunity to pass. Besides, Ludwig figured that if he gave his appreciation of Romano’s landscapes, cuisine and him as a whole, he might be allowed to visit the entire Italy as he pleased. Tracking to the city, Ludwig noticed that the sites were almost empty, unlike other places he visited. A snicker reached the German’s ears and again the seemingly harsh blue eyes turned to cunning and sly hazel orbs.

“Pompeii is closed down for tourists at the moment; they are doing some fucking excavations and shit around the temple.” Titling the head to the side Germany wondered how they would tour it then but another roll of the eyes made him swallow his questions. After all this is Italy not Germany, connections with the right people got you far, especially of to believe Veneziano more so in the South than up in the North were Austria influenced the younger brother. Walking the marked streets of the old town, Germany looked around the half destroyed yet beautifully preserved houses, temples and could only wonder how this small place would look like if the volcano would not have erupted back then.

“Romano…?” the Italian stopped his stories regarding different monuments and even quirks of everyday life of the small town and turned with a frown to the German. “You sound like you have seen this place when it was still very much alive.” A snort discouraged the German but the small nostalgic smile confused him equally. Romano looked around and gently touched one of the walls to a small what was before a house and shrugged.

“Si, I have been here many times when all this shitload of land belonged to old geezer.” Chuckling slightly… “I fucking loved to spend vacations here. Come I will show you something.” And much to Germany’s surprise, Romano took his hand and started to lead him through small streets ignoring the restricted areas signs. After many turns and cuts off, Germany started to get dizzy, but managed to keep up with the fast Italian. Just as suddenly they stopped in front of a quiet big house with columns and open windows and balconies, the roof was severely damaged, walls crumbled, and singed black, and parts were still caked in ashes. Looking around, Germany figured that the place must be important if judging by the forlorn and bittersweet look Romano was having by looking at the house. “Gilbert… your fratellone… that fucker saved my life so many fucking times… yet I clearly remember this one… even if I was a child.” a low chuckle and a shake of his head put a stop to the forming question of the curious German. Germany knew Veneziano and he knows that Romano is still a mystery to him, which discovering turned out to be very exciting, yet suddenly the nation felt so young and ignorant of the real world and history. “We even got fucking matching scars from this too, like some fucking bros or something.”

“What happened Romano?” with a shrug Romano sat on the steps of the crumbling old roman villa while motioning for the German to do the same.

“Vesuvius happened, what do you think idiotic potato?” was the biting replay reflecting the actual dislike of the South Italian that Germany seemed to forget or just hope that it disappeared from the last encounters. “I was fucking here with some servants when the volcano exploded.” Germany was listening very attentively to the story. “Nonno was with Germania at that time and I guess he collapsed or something, but before that he told him that I was there so while the barbarian took care of Nonno he sent Gilbert to check on me.” Germany furrowed his eyebrows because the distance is great and at that, time people and nations alike traveled either by foot or with horses. “Don’t you fucking look at me like that, ask your idiotic brother. The point is he got here when people were already dying.” A chocking sound startled the German and he noticed that Romano was looking down and his shoulders were trembling and by some kind of urge, he placed his hand on the Italian’s shoulder in what appeared a comforting gesture. “It was fucking horrible and I… alone and scared. Germany people were suffocating, burning and their heads were fucking exploding… everything was burning and the blood…Oh Dio it looked like snowing…” and with that Germany tucked him to his chest and just held them while the Italian trembled and tried to get a grip on everything. After a few minutes or so, Romano took a deep breath and still clutching onto the German’s shirt tried to continue. “Gilbert reached me when the columns collapsed and ashes flew everywhere on us. But ignoring everything… I remember that he took me out and onto a huge black horse and just rode it like crazy.” A low humorless chuckle “He was also bleeding and he was burned just like me. We were not nations yet Germany… we still have those fucking scars.” After a few more minutes, Romano composed himself, with a flushed face let go of the German, and furiously rubbed his cheeks of the tears making them even redder.

“Stop Romano.” And with that Romano’s hands were taken away from his cheeks by larger, paler and rougher hands, hands of a soldier, engineer hands that had ancient barbarian blood running through them. Romano would never have thought that they might be gentle while softly wiping the tears still clinging to his dark huge curling eyelashes. “You were a child and the tragedy was horrible through your eyes at that time. It is only natural to be overwhelmed.” Sniffing undignified the Italian shyly mumbled while looking down at the ground.

“I am not fucking overwhelmed.” Germany smiled and let go of the warm and gentle hands from his grip, immediately feeling the lose somewhere above his stomach.

                        After a few more hours of touring and Romano showing him hidden special places that no one but the nation himself knows existed and their story knew, finally the hiked up the hills back to the car and the day was almost at an end. The sun was setting slowly behind the far away hills, the dirty road was glimmering with an orange setting and both nations were tired that even the smallest of the pebbles were giving them problems to walk properly. Reaching the truck they both hoped in and Romano drove as if his life depended on it towards home.

“Mein Gott, Romano! Our driving is only slightly better than Feliciano’s!” The German was clutching onto his seats with all his might but the amused chuckle was a pleasant surprise that made him barely smile.

“And who the fuck do you think taught that scatter brain to drive, huh?” taking a sharp turn Romano enjoyed jostling the big German around.

“My guess that it was you. My second guess is that it did not go so well, ja?” Roman just burst into laughter stopping the car under the makeshift shed.

“He took to it like fish to water! We Italians just like speed, that is all, besides rules are made to be broken.” Ignoring the German who was shaking his head in defeat, Romano got out and power walked into the villa intent to cook something and eat. After deciding to cook some simple pasta dish, Romano went upstairs to shower and change in some PJs. Going downstairs and checking his phone for missing calls and making the pasta sauce, he noticed the German followed his example and was coming downstairs in only a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight black wife-beater. The hair was freshly washed and messed up by the towel giving the southerner the opportunity to marvel at the buff muscles bulging from simple actions. For all the dislike that Romano expressed, the Italian was quiet an aesthetic oriented person and he could not deny that Germany looked like a live statue of Adonis himself. His golden hair being roughly dried with the towel made Lovino cringe and to want to gently pat the excess of water from it himself. But the flexing of the muscles drew his attention to those big arms that resembled pale white hills on an unmarked north territory. _North… He is of North and belongs to my own North…_  shaking his head Lovino put down the phone with a sigh and started to set the table for the late dinner.

“Sit your potato ass down and let’s eat already!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again please please review and comment and enjoy~! and if you have a preference or something you would like to read in this story feel free to tell me and I will gladly try to introduce it here. Also pairing ideas are more than welcome~!!


	16. Unpredictable Directions on the Spinning Compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for my absence, I found a permanent job and it takes so much of my time, then the winter holidays came and went and I had no time to write. But here is a new chapter and I promise that I will finish this story no matter how much time it will take me. Please enjoy another brand new chapter.

XVI

“Unpredictable Directions on the Spinning Compass”

            _I am going to fucking cut him down one day!_ The sun was barely up and the _God damn_ rooster was already voicing the start of the day. With a sigh Romano got up with the intention to work some more on his gardens. Putting on some sweat pants, he went downstairs to make some coffee. After making coffee and nibbling on some cookies, Lovino went out the back door and sat on the threshold overlooking the property and the volcano in the distance. Just as the sun peeked from behind the mountain, some shuffling noise drew Lovinos’s attention from the sunrise and his cold cup of coffee. Turning around he was met with the sight of a German clad in some running short shorts and a t-shirt looking surprised at him. 

“Gutten morgen Romano. You are unusually early.” Turning around and clicking his tongue, Romano stood up and went inside.

“Si, si morning besides you are the one who woke up so damn early.” Germany shrugged and watched the Italian washing the dirty cup.

“I always jog in the morning.” Lovino raised an eyebrow and smirked…

“So that is why the village girls pass by more often than before, si?” much to Romano’s amusement, Germany blushed and looked at his plain black sneakers. “Well if you are already awake and in need of working out… you going to help?”

“With what?” Running a hand through his bed hair, Romano gestures across the garden to the road neither of them can see through the trees and distance, then he explains.

“The fucking stone fence on the west edge fell over.” Germany got a feeling that Romano was not looking at him on purpose but shrugged it off. Nodding an affirmative answer, he went to go and change but was stopped by the Italians arm on his own.

“No, go do your God damn jogging and I will gather the supplies. We will go after you ate breakfast.” Germany went to argue but was dismissed as Romano waved a hand close to his face. “Feli told me to fucking take care of you, and even if you are a disgusting potato, no guest of mine will feel neglected got it?” Germany could do nothing more but nod and go work out as instructed. By the time, Romano is finished digging an old unused bag of cement mix from one of the outbuildings to repair the wall along with some spare stone, Germany is back and dressed in some more skin covering work out clothing. As soon as they reached the place, German’s military background kicked in making Romano shake his head but to try to keep the pace sat by the hard working German. The two nations pile rocks and fit them into place, mixing cement and shoveling and sloughing the heavy muck around with only a few sparse yet exact instructions from the sweating yet confident German. It is a good hard work that neither of them had done in a long time, but the sun catches up with them before they are even half of the way through. It becomes clear that South Italy is too busy working on the fence and possibly busy worrying about not crushing his fingers to give a damn when suddenly he throws his hat away along with the sweaty and dirty shirt to let the breeze to cool him down a notch. After a while, Romano just takes of his boots and goes about his work barefoot in the grass and grime from the cement waste and murky water making the German worry about safety procedures. But when the German decides to maybe follow the Italian’s example Lovino promptly stops him.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” stopping half way through taking his shirt off, Germany titles head to the side shyly.

“It is hot outside.” And then Germany does not know why he is blushing, because of the sun, getting caught undressing or that specific clicking of the tongue that he started to associate purely with Romano.

“You are fucking as pale as fresh milk idiot! You are going to burn, leave it fucking on.” Frowning and shaking his head, Romano was amazed at the German’s ignorance of his own paleness.

“Danke for worrying Romano.” Turning around to continue fixing the fence, Germany missed the heavy blush and the incredulous look that the Italian gave him gaping like a fish out of water. Going back to work, the pouting Romano could not help but think.

_I should plant a few fucking trees around here…_

    At the end of the day the wall stands straight and proud and Romano is actually grateful to the tall German nation because deep down he knows that without the other he would not have been able to repair it. Throwing down a rag, Romano just goes down on the grass and sighs; limbs spread wide and sweat making his tanned skin shine. After a few seconds, he hears the grass shifting signaling that the German sat next to him on the ground, just with more reserve. Opening one eye catches the German trying to clean his face with the soiled shirt, which promptly makes Romano smirk.

“Want to take a dip in the lake?” cringing internally, Romano admits that whenever the German tilts his head to the side and with that disheveled hair he looks somewhat innocent. After that, the Italian does not say anything but just gets up and starts walking. Leaving behind the tools, the Italian cannot be bothered to worry about someone stealing them. Romano starts to walk faster when finally he brakes into a light jog feeling the German follow him in the same manner, because despite the hard work and the heat the desire to show off another part of his home is too powerful and exciting to just calmly walk there. His bare feet pound the packed path and the rays of the setting sun flash gold and orange as they chase each other under the olive tree branches and follow the lay of the earth. Romano has no fear of tripping because he is used to the dirty path and the country feel is like home to him, yet he cannot notice that Germany is much more cautious in his pursuit. Besides living here for several hundreds of years, gave Romano enough time to learn all the obstacles, all the rocks and sticking roots. Entering the forest and when his feet feel the cold rock underneath, he leaps and draws his knees in tight to his chest, eyes closed before the sudden shock of the cold mountain water hits his overheated skin like high voltage electricity. After a few glorious seconds, Romano breaks the surface followed by a gasp that rips from his oxygen deprived lungs and his nerves are still reeling a little from the sudden temperature jolt.

“Is it deep?” turning around he sees the German shuffling a little bit on the stone ledge, looking down at the dark water, Romano kicks his legs and spreads his arms under the water so can float comfortably and mockingly asks.

“Why, you cannot swim? Potatoes do not drown I think.” Germany shakes his head noticing the Italian’s smirk.

“They actually do and I can swim.” With that, Germany took off his shirt but stopped short at the sweatpants and just got into the water one-step at a time.

 “It is shallow on that end but pretty deep here.” The lake is located at the lowest point in the dell, out of sight from most high points around the villa; you have to know where it is to be able to find it. The water actually accumulates from an underground spring coming down from the mountains through a series of underground caves. Moreover, the mouth of one of the caves opens right where Romano is floating, which _pretty deep_ is actually stretching the truth because not even Romano ca define that “pretty deep” notion. “Why the fuck you don’t just dive in?”

“The body temperature is high right now and the water is cold. It is dangerous.” Romano rolls his eyes at that looking at the half-submerged German.

“We are fucking nations; you cannot really die like humans do.” And with that Romano submerged again, swimming around. Suddenly under the water he notices that the German is swimming on the surface towards him and with a smirk _Whoopsie~_ Romano’s hand pulls the Germans leg and the other is underwater looking surprised. Breaking the surface Romano cannot help but laugh at Germany’s face. Suddenly a wave of cold water is splashed onto his face, and for some reason that smirk on the pale face makes Romano playful and he cannot resist pushing the much more muscular nation under the water by his shoulders. It does not even occur to him that it is excessively easy, that such mass of pure muscles could put up a good resistance and easily overpower him. It is fun and not once Romano thought that Germany should stop being so stiff and no one is around to judge him for being a little childish and have fun with a fellow nation. And suddenly Romano realizes that this is Germany, the nation he is supposed to hate, but he cannot help but let out a loud laugh when those pale fingers brushes his ribs and now they are tickling him and they are splashing, swimming and pushing each other under water like a couple of unruly teenagers. And for this moment it seems that they forgot that they are nations, that Romano seemingly hates the German and Germany is annoyed by him more often than not, they are just two young men having fun. After a while both of them are sprawled on the grass by the banks of the lake out of breath and Romano cannot help but let out the bubbling giggles, Germany is no better as he just lays there with a silly smile looking at the darkening sky. “You are not that fucking bad as I thought… Germany.”

“Danke Romano. I honestly do not remember the last time I had so much fun on a vacation.” The Italian snorts and mumbles something about stiff and scary German tourists. After catching their breaths, both of them decide that it is best to go back home and eat something, before it is too dark to see the path.

          That evening the dinner is much more lively and after wishing each other _Good Night…_ Romano could not help but fall asleep with a small smile and have the undeniably the most relaxing sleep in a very long time.  Mornings came and went along with lively evenings, and the days in between varied with touring the neighboring towns and repairing the villa. Romano grew more accustomed to the German’s constant presence and more often than not caught himself even enjoying his companionship or even worrying about the burly nation. As one sunny hot day when Romano was coming back from the market after selling and buying different food products saw the German on his rooftop fixing a leak above the pantry room. That day Germany got reminded how loud, annoying and cruel Romano can be, because not only was he made to get off the roof in that instant but also picking all the fallen items that Romano dropped in shock while getting an earful about _Fucking incompetent and brainless potatoes that_ according to the enraged south Italian _would be the death of him._ Germany was surprised when this rant and temper tantrum did not annoy him in the slightest as it would not but a few month back but actually seemed adorable and endearing because it showed nothing more that Romano’s care for his wellbeing and safety in his own grumpy way. Slowly but surely, Germany now understood the endless love and tolerant affection that Feliciano, Spain and even Gilbert harbored towards this raging fire of a half nation. And possibly the desire that Turkey and France harbored towards Romano, emotionally he understood, socially and culturally perhaps too. Although why would those former Great Empires fought tooth and nail, sacrificing so much for the possession of the South, that Germany did not understand, although he truly hoped that it would change with time and he will learn more about the surprising mysterious South Italy.  

          About two weeks have passed, without any of the two nations noticing the time. Therefore, when one evening eating some kind of casserole with actual potatoes in it made by the Italian himself, although he made a good show of not eating it, Germany received a phone call from a frantic albino. It resulted in a pouting Italian and a shocked German, although in a tense atmosphere the evening continued as planed with the only change made to accommodate the packing German and Romano making last minute reservations for train tickets to Rome from where Germany would take an emergency flight to Berlin. The next morning after having coffee with some tiramisu, smoking a few cigarettes, Romano drove the silent German to the train station in Naples along with a handmade basket filled with wine, olive oil, different kind of meats, cheeses, olives and fruits from yours truly Romano Lovino Vargas, South Italia. That morning everything was made in complete silence, which left a bitter taste for both nations, and yet unbeknown to both of them, they made a silent promise to make up for the depressing farewell. And with that Germany looked out the window of the speeding train not even minding that it arrived late and that it departed late, his thoughts were overwhelmed with the sudden realization that his vacation did not go according to his initial plan and it was spent in a forgotten village with the one nation that annoyed him the most and yet he could not be more satisfied and happy that it turned exactly as it did. On the other hand, Lovino sat in the car parked under the shed in front of his villa, already feeling the silence angering him and the feeling of loneliness overwhelming. Therefore, with a sigh, the Italian got out the car and entered his house with one intention only.

“ Hol—“

“Come over, Antonio. Por favor.” A few seconds of silence followed and suddenly there was only the sound of a hanged up phone.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rate and comment any mistakes that you would love to see corrected, suggestions of the outcome on the next chapters, pairings you would like to see and other things that you might feel needed to tell me. Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Please, comments and suggestions are very much welcomed! Also future chapters will be uploaded after a certain amount of feedback! Thank you~~!!


End file.
